


Megalo|Vania: Under Heaven

by AMX004_Qubeley



Series: Megalo|Vania [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Angst and Humor, Anime Fight Scenes, Body Horror, Canon Divergence, Emotional Trauma, Gen, If MGS and JJBA had a baby and that baby grew up and had a baby with Undertale you'd get this, Nonbinary Frisk, Physical Trauma, Some Weird Time Shit, Spoilers - No Mercy Route, Spoilers - Pacifist Route, Starring Kiefer Sutherland as Venom "Punished" Asriel, nonbinary chara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 05:17:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 42
Words: 160,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5116916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMX004_Qubeley/pseuds/AMX004_Qubeley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long ago, in a forgotten time, a child named Chara found a new family.</p><p>Long ago, in a forgotten place, a child named Asriel became an angel.</p><p>Not too long ago, a child named Frisk saved a civilization.</p><p>Tormented by a voice in their head, Frisk gives a piece of their soul to bring Asriel Dreemurr back to life. But perhaps it was unwise to attempt such dangerous and arcane magic while sharing a mind with a self-proclaimed timeline-hopping avatar of destruction. The fragile peace reached by the Kingdom of Mount Ebott soon comes under attack as a twisted soul seeks "Heaven" the only way it knows how: by reducing the world to zero.</p><p>This is the story of a demon who became a child, a child who became a demon, and the number between them.</p><p>This is the story of Asriel, Chara, and Zero.</p><p>ACT 1: Hero to Zero ~ Ch. 1-7<br/>ACT 2: Misanthropy Rising ~ Ch. 11-18<br/>ACT 3: Zero's Heaven ~ Ch. 21-29<br/>ACT 4: Falling to Absolute Zero ~ Ch. 30-40<br/>ACT 5: A Final Farewell ~ Chapter 41<br/>End Credits: Chapter 42</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To Avalon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Frisk makes a mistake.

It was cold in Snowdin (as it always was), but the metaphorical warmth that had suffused it had been slowly trickling away. Newest Home (the King was still not the best at naming things) was filling out quite nicely, although the Royal Regional Relocation Administrator hadn't seen it yet. It was almost sad seeing the quaint little snow-capped homes gradually going dark, no matter how happy their owners were to leave. As Undyne had explained to him, the Underground was a trash-ridden crap-hole, but it was _their_ trash-ridden crap-hole.

It was hardest to see Grillby close shop (even though he never ate at that greasetrap). The Librarby was a close second, though. He'd heard the one in Newest Home had a properly-spelled sign. That… did not feel right at all. The only place that wasn't empty was the Snowed Inn, which occasionally saw a few out-of-towners stopping by on their way to the surface.

It was there, at the front door, that the Royal Regional Relocation Administrator spotted a familiar face, and, as friends do, proceeded to wave excitedly and call out to them. “Hey! Frisk! Is that you?”

The small human drew up their hood and quickened their steps. It didn't stop the Administrator from catching up to them within a few strides. “Frisk! What brings you here?”

Frisk was silent. Of course, they were never much for conversation, but they usually reacted when someone was talking to them.

“Frisk! You'll never guess what my new job is! You see, King Asgore decided that I was such an integral part of this community, my exceptional talents were needed below the surface, and deemed to promote me to…” he took a deep breath, “Royal Regional Relocation Administrator!” He beamed. “A title fitting of the great Papyrus! Nyeh heh heh heh… heh?”

They kept walking. Papyrus was starting to get worried. “Speaking of services to the King,” he said, trying to keep the conversation going (however one-sided), “didn't he offer you a job? As an ambassador?”

“Yeah.”

“Didn't you take it?”

“Nah. I couldn't.”

“What? Why not? You make friends with everyone, isn't that all an ambassador does?”

“Papyrus, I'm only twelve.”

“…There are eleven more of you?”

Frisk turned around. Papyrus grinned back at them.

“That was pretty bad, wasn't it?” Another familiar voice came from behind Frisk. They whirled around to face the newcomer, lost their balance, and hit the snow.

The stocky skeleton Sans reached out to give Frisk a helping hand. “I never let my brother have the good jokes.”

Papyrus fumed. “You never let anyone have any good jokes, Sans! Not even yourself! When it's not horrible puns it's—“

A single long, loud fart pierced the air.

“…That.”

Sans helped the human brush the snow off their clothes. “I'm sure Papyrus has been telling you all about his new job. It's keeping him very busy.”

“Unlike you,” the taller skeleton scoffed. “Sitting in your room playing trombone all day… Building up your pet rock collection… Which, by the way, _I_ always have to feed…”

“Didn't you have, like, five jobs, Sans?”

“Yeah, but I quit. Too much pressure to climb the corporate ladder. So what brings you here, kid?”

“Don't bother, I've already asked them.”

Frisk looked down and fidgeted a bit. “I've been here. For, uh,” they said sheepishly, “like a month.”

Papyrus was incredulous. “You've been here since the barrier fell? Wasn't your whole 'thing' about getting back to the surface?”

“Have you been staying with Toriel?” Sans asked. “I've been practicing my puns on her and didn't hear her say anything about you…”

“Toriel's still here?”

“I'll take that as a no. Nah, I told her she could check out ahead of everyone else as a VIP, but she said she'd rather wait her turn.” Sans took out his phone. “Let's text her.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Papyrus said. “I'll dictate for you.” He cleared his throat. “Hello Toriel. It is I, Papyrus. Equals sign hyphen close parenthesis underscore close parentheses.” He knelt down beside Frisk and whispered, _“That's me.”_ He stood up, cleared his throat again, and continued. “Guess who we just ran into. Hyphen underscore hyphen.” He knelt down next to Frisk and whispered, _“That's you.”_ He stood up, made sure Sans was getting the emoticons right, and then knelt back down. _“Also, who's Toriel?”_

The wind howled, bringing with it a hail of icy needles. The skeletons paid it no mind, but Frisk suddenly wished they'd picked up warmer clothes. Now that the Core had been shut down, the climate in the Underground was going to become very messy, very quickly.

They trudged through the snow, Papyrus waxing about all his responsibilities as Royal Regional Relocation Administrator, and Sans supplying the appropriate groaner when necessary. Soon they reached the edge of the ruins. The heavy stone door Frisk had walked out of only a few weeks ago (though it had felt like an eternity) loomed ahead.

Sans knocked on the door. “Knock knock,” he called out.

The door answered. “Who's there?”

“Boo.”

Papyrus rolled his eyes. Frisk still couldn't figure out how he did that.

“Boo who?”

“I know our time together will be short, but there's no need to cry about it.”

The massive door swung open, and the three of them were greeted by Toriel, caretaker of the Ruins. Frisk felt their feet leave the ground almost immediately as the old goat woman (who must have been at least six feet tall) embraced them in the tightest, warmest hug they'd gotten since… well, the last time they'd seen her.

After about a minute, Toriel set them down. “It does my heart good to see you again, my child,” she said, petting them on the head with a massive paw. She headed into the corridor, beckoning the young human and their skeletal friends to follow. “I'm afraid I'm not very well prepared to entertain visitors,” she admitted, “but your company is always welcome.”

It was a bit of a long walk through the corridor, and Toriel had what seemed like dozens of questions for Frisk. Or would have, if Papyrus hadn't immediately started talking her ears off about how great his new job was.

Frisk saw the scorch marks on the walls and floor of the tunnel, where they'd fought Toriel. Or, more accurately, where they'd begged and pleaded with her to let them pass, to let them go home. Frisk felt a little sick looking at them.

“Don't worry,” Sans whispered to Frisk as his brother's shrill voice echoed through the corridor. “If you don't feel comfortable talking about how things are going, we'll keep her occupied.”

–

Sans was true to his word; he kept Toriel busy in the dining room with his inexhaustible supply of wordplay, and when that failed, Papyrus kept her busy in the kitchen by insisting that he help prepare dinner. Amid the clatter of bowls and dishes and Toriel's polite, but increasingly-insistent chiding, Sans cornered Frisk.

“Look, pal,” he said, patting the kid's shoulder, “I understand if you don't want to burden Toriel with whatever's going on in your life. She can be a bit, er,” he looked around, “eh, you know.”

Frisk nodded.

“But hey, you gotta tell _someone_. Can't just keep it all to yourself. That's not what friends do.” He grinned.

Frisk took a deep breath, looked as though they were about to speak, and then closed their mouth again. They repeated this a few times.

“It's okay, take your time.” Sans glanced over at the kitchen. “We've got probably half an hour, maybe an hour until Toriel gets things under control in there.”

Frisk gulped. “Toriel. I… killed her.” Quickly, he added: “It was an accident.”

Sans nodded. “Okay.”

“I was scared, and I wanted to go home, and she was throwing fire at me, and… and I had a knife… and then she died.”

“Okay.”

There was another commotion in the kitchen. “Papyrus, dear, you mustn't stir so vigorously, you might—” There was the sound of something shattering on the floor. “…break something.” Toriel sighed. “Step aside, I'll—”

“No, I insist! _I_ will take care of this!”

“Go on,” Sans said.

“Well, I mean, obviously, she's not dead anymore. Because I went back. I fixed it. I made it… not happen.” The child held their hands over their face. “But it still happened! It still happened… in here.” They pointed to the side of their head. “To me. And when I think about her I can't help but see her… crumbling.” Their voice faltered. “Turning into dust…”

For an instant, Sans' cool exterior broke. An icy, glaring light flashed in his right eye socket. Frisk hardly recognized the grave voice he spoke in.

“Kid… how many other times have you done this?”

“I never killed anyone else,” they replied, shaking their head vigorously. “I'd remember if I did.”

“So that's a pretty understandable reason to feel weird around Toriel,” Sans said. “And I get that between my hygiene and my bro's cooking, we'd make some pretty bad roommates. But why did you stay down here?”

“I can't go back to the surface. I thought I could, but…”

“…I get it. You don't have anyone to go back to, do you? And you didn't want us to worry about you.”

Frisk turned away. “It's not just that. There's just something… Something I'm afraid to bring with me.”

Before Frisk could finish, dinner was ready. Toriel and Papyrus exited the kitchen with the main course in tow. Frisk stared at what Papyrus had proudly titled “Papyrus' Signature Escargot Linguini Alfredo” and shoveled onto the plate in front of them with apprehension. They'd never eaten snails before. They'd been hoping, however irrationally, for butterscotch pie.

“Human! Do not fret!” Papyrus dug into his own plate. “It may not be the pasta you're accustomed to. But I've been reading! In some human cultures, snails are a delicacy!”

In some human cultures, perhaps, but not theirs. Frisk twirled some noodles around their fork and speared a steamed snail. Their stomach gurgled in spite of itself.

“Snails are 'monopods', Frisk. Their entire body is one giant foot.” Toriel told them.

“If you eat enough of them,” Sans added, “You just might become 'undefeetable'.”

Papyrus grumbled. “Did you have that one planned out?”

“You could say it was a joint operation,” Sans replied.

Toriel suppressed a giggle at Sans' puns and continued. “They're quite nutritious. Try it; you might like it,” Toriel plied them.

Frisk slowly brought the fork to their mouth, bit down with trepidation, and nervously began to chew. It tasted like butter and garlic, with a hint of a flavor halfway between fish and fungus. It tasted good, but the rubbery texture was hard to get used to.

“Well?” Papyrus asked. His mouth hung open with anticipation, a single noodle hanging from his teeth. “What do you think of our culinary collaboration?”

Frisk swallowed. It was weird, but… “It's… the best pasta you've ever made.” Papyrus beamed in approval.

It was true, even if the only thing they could compare it to was a dish of “finely-aged” spaghetti.

The meal vanished quickly, and the skeleton brothers excused themselves. Frisk made to follow the two of them, but Toriel held them back. “The skeletons can handle the cold, you can't.”

“But—”

“You'll be okay,” Sans reassured them. He followed his brother down the staircase to the corridor below. “We'll dig you two out in the morning if we have to…”

“…By which he means _I_ will!” Papyrus added with a dash of irritation. The two brothers vanished, although Frisk could faintly hear Sans assuring his brother that he'd totally help if he was needed.

“You can stay here as long as you want,” Toriel reassured Frisk. “Anyone who's traveled such a long way just to see me is welcome here.” She pulled out her reading glasses. “Now, I know you've done a whole lot of very adult things lately like, oh, saving our entire civilization… but I do hope you are not too mature now for a bedtime story…?”

Frisk looked at her smile and tried very hard not to see the skull they'd seen in their nightmares behind it. “No, M—er, Toriel.”

 –

_Hey._

“Mrph.” Frisk clasped their pillow around their ears. It didn't make any difference.

 _Heeey, Frisky._ The voice had the same sardonic ring to it as Flowey's, although it had the grave, rumbling timbre of a cruel old man. It called itself Zero, and had appointed itself the harbinger of all of Frisk's troubles since they had come to the Underground. Once the barrier fell, the voice had become impossible to ignore, a constant and unavoidable phantom mind inside Frisk's own.

“M'tired.”

_You know you don't want to go to sleep._

“Leave me alone, Zero.”

_You know, I've been thinking these past few hours. Maybe you were right about all that peace and kindness stuff._

Frisk let the pillow unwrap itself from their head. “R-really?”

The voice snorted in derision. _Nah, just messing with ya. Anyway, who's it gonna be tonight? Undyne? Papyrus? Toriel again?_

“No…”

_Toriel a million times?_

“Stop it.”

_Come, Frisk. Let me show you fear in a handful of dust._

“Shut up.”

 _I can paint the most vivid pictures of all the ones_ I _killed…_ the voice drawled, _but her? You were_ there _._

“SHUT UP!”

The door burst open, light from the hallway flooding the bedroom. “Frisk!” Toriel called out to them. “Frisk, are you all right?”

Before Frisk could respond, Toriel was at their side, lifting them out of their bed and cradling them in her arms. “You must have been having such an awful nightmare… I could hear you talking in your sleep…”

Frisk buried their face in her soft fur. “Y—yeah… it was horrible…” Their breathing and heartbeat gradually slowed to a resting pace.

“Was the story I picked out too frightening for you?”

They laughed a bit. Toriel's mood noticeably lightened. “No, it was just… I'm fine now. I'm okay. Please let me down.”

Toriel did so. “If you don't feel safe, you're welcome to sleep in my room tonight. If it would help…”

“No, I'll be fine.”

She shrugged. “I'll keep my door open, just in case. Would you like me to leave the lights on in the hallway?”

Frisk climbed back into bed. “That would be fine.”

Toriel exited the room, leaving the door open a crack. A thin yellow-orange strip of light crossed over Frisk's face. “Sleep well, little one,” she called out softly as she returned to her own room. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Frisk murmured. They weren't sure if she heard them.

For a while, the house was silent.

Then, after an all-too-brief respite, the voice came back.

 _So, where were we? Oh, right._ _Didn't it feel good to lash out like that?_ _Watch her fall down and crumble away?_ _Get out all that anger?_

“I w-wasn't angry, I was afraid, and I was—”

 _You wouldn't feel guilty if it were_ really _self-defense._

Frisk threw off their covers and balled their fists. “I felt bad because I ended a life! Because I'm not a su— soak— sock-i-oh—”

W _ow, way to throw around those diagnoses. When_ did _you get your medical license?_

“Because I'm not a _messed-up loser_ like you!”

_Oh, jeez, that hurts, Frisk._

“Y-you're some weirdo who thinks hurting people is fun, a-and you can't deal with being stuck with someone who isn't as messed up as you! Well you know what? I'm gonna get rid of you!”

_How?_

“I'll reset.”

Frisk could somehow feel the voice's owner smiling. _Oh, but Frisk, you promised… Oh well—Back to zero it is…_

“No… back to the end.”

The knowledge that they could make everything right… It filled them with determination.

 –

This _is your plan?_

The golden flowers stirred, although there was no breeze to rustle them; as the barrier had dissipated, an eerie stillness had descended on the entire Underground.

“Asriel,” Frisk said, breaking the silence. “Don't you think your mom and dad would be happy to see you again?”

He hung his head. “There's no point—I won't be around much longer. It would just hurt them.”

Frisk closed the gap between themselves and the boy prince. “You could at least say goodbye to them.” They felt like a hypocrite: they hadn't done the same.

Asriel ignored them. “Someone has to watch over the flowers.”

Frisk bent down and picked one up, eyeing it with unease. They half expected some horrible grinning face to pop out of it and call them an idiot. “I think they can take care of themselves.”

The flower drooped in their hand.

“These were their favorite flowers.”

“The first human?”

“Yeah.”

Frisk sat down beside Asriel. “What kind of a person were they, anyway?”

Asriel waited a long time to answer. “They… weren't a very good one.”

 _Traitor,_ the voice in Frisk's head spat.

“But I didn't care.”

Frisk remembered the videos from the hidden laboratory. They weren't surprised.

“It's kind of silly how much I idolized them. They were everything I wished I could be. Cool, funny, never cried and didn't care if they hurt people… and when they died, I didn't want to remember any of the bad things about them or any of the ways they made me feel bad.” Asriel paused. “When I woke up, I thought acting like them would make me feel better about… everything. Pretty soon I almost forgot I'd been anyone else.” He let out a bleak laugh. “Sorry for trying to trap you in an endless loop so I could kill you over and over again, forever. And then stealing everyone's souls and becoming…” he scratched his head. “The absolute god of hyperdeath?”

“Maybe you went a little overboard there.”

_Actually, I was very proud of you there. Frisk, tell him I said I was proud of him._

They sat beside each other for a long time. Eventually, the young prince lowered his head and closed his eyes. “I'm fading… I think this is the end for me, Frisk. You should go.” He sighed deeply. “I won't wake up. Well, I will, but it won't be… It won't be, well… me.”

Frisk grasped his hand as Asriel slumped over. “Don't worry,” they told him. “I have an idea…”

_No…_

“You need a soul, right? Just any old soul, to keep yourself together? Everything that's 'you' is in your head, right?”

“Frisk… don't get anyone's dust on your hands for my sake…”

_No… no no no no no…_

“It's not what you think—no one has to die—I can just give you a little piece of mine, can't I?” Frisk tried very hard to focus on the intruder in their head. “I've got a really specific piece in mind…”

_NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO_

“But you could die…”

Frisk laid Asriel on his back and laid a hand on his heart. “Don't worry about me.”

Asriel struggled to tear their hand away. “Don't!” he snarled, tears streaming down his face. “I can't watch you die for me twice, Zero!”

Frisk's resolve faltered. “…Zero?”

“It was… kind of a nickname I had for them… Well, _they_ came up with it actually, because they thought it made them sound cool and mysterious… I'm sorry, you just look so much like them that I got confused again…”

Frisk tried to pull their hand away, but they realized with horror that the hand resisted their commands. Zero finally had the control they had wanted. Frisk's vision blurred and went dark as Zero's laughter drowned out Asriel's teary protests.

Zero pulled Asriel onto his feet. “There you go, old pal. Doesn't it feel good to be alive again… _Brother?”_

Asriel fell to his knees despite Zero's best efforts to prop him up. His mouth moved, but no sound came out.

“What's the matter? Aren't you excited to see your best bro again? For _real_ this time?” The child grinned, a malevolent spark in their eyes. “You wouldn't believe how frustrating it was to watch that little prick with their saccharine routine. They never let me play! Not even for a second!”

Zero paced in a slow circle around the young prince, examining their fingernails idly. “It's a pretty good body, all things considered. I can see why little Frisky wanted to hold onto it so badly. Feels like home. I guess you could say I've got a… new lease on life!” Their red eyes sparkled. “Look at us, the dynamic duo, back in action! The two of us, we could do such great things together, Asriel and Zero… or, actually, since I was mostly in control that time you took my soul, maybe I should get top billing…” Zero spoke with a horrifying, ageless maturity.

Asriel leapt up, drew his arm back, and punched the child in the jaw. Zero hit the ground laughing. “What a punch!” they exclaimed, clasping a hand to their mouth. “I'm impressed. The old Azzy could never have…” They pulled the hand away, spying a dot of blood, and whistled through cut lips.

“Don't call me that,” Asriel told him, the iron in his voice undercut by his nervous trembling. “You… You just killed…” He shoved Zero down before they could stand up. _“You murdered another person!”_

“Are you—”

Asriel kicked them. “You hurt people for fun, you poisoned Dad and pretended it was an accident, you tried to take my body and use it to kill people, and now you… You…”

“Are you d—”

Asriel kicked them again. “Why didn't you stay dead? Why did anyone want you back?”

“Are you done?”

“You tricked Frisk into giving up their soul. You planted the idea in their head. And now a good person is gone because of you! All because—Because what? You wanted your old life back?” Asriel held his footpaw against Zero's chest. “Well, you can forget about it! Because _you are not my brother._ I'm never going to let you have that life again. You won't get away with all the hurt you've caused… You're just gonna have to… re… Re…” He lifted his paw off of Zero and stumbled backward. “Reset…”

Zero nodded and stood up, dusting themselves off. “As much as I don't like it, I can't help but admire your newly-acquired backbone. Must be something from Frisk's soul. As much of a wimp as they were, they were nothing if not…” They smiled. “Determined.”

Zero tossed an arm over Asriel's quaking shoulders. “Now, here's how things are going to work from here on. You're gonna pretend I'm still Frisk, okay? Everyone's best friend, savior of monsterkind, ambassador to the humans, et cetera, ad nauseum… And you're gonna pretend we're friends. Best friends! It'll be almost like old times!” They yanked up one of the prince's floppy ears and whispered into it, _“And if I decide you're not playing your part well enough, I might just reset… and do things_ my _way.”_ They pulled away, laughing. “All the world's a stage, brother!”

Zero laughed and smiled all the way back to the surface, the resurrected prince in tow.


	2. Over the Earthen Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Asriel returns to the surface.

“ _Hey, Azzy?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Are you still up?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Can I ask you for a favor?”_

_“Does it have anything to do with all those cookies Mom baked?”_

_“Nah, that's not what I had in mind. Do you promise you'll do this for me, though?”_

_“Will I have to break any rules?”_

_“No, not this time! It's just… Would you be okay with calling me something else from now on?”_

_“Sure. But what's wrong with your name?”_

_“Nothing. I just came up with a cool nickname and I wanna share it with you.”_

_“What is it?”_

_“…Zero.”_

_“Zero?”_

_“Yeah, Zero. Pretty cool, huh?”_

_“Why would you want to call yourself Zero?”_

_“…You don't like it?”_

_“No, no, no! It's not that I don't_ like _it, it's just…”_

_“You don't like it.”_

_“No, I think it's a great name, but…”_

_Zero pulled their blankets over their head. “It sounds like you don't want to call me by my really cool new name, even though you promised me.”_

_“Well, I mean…”_

_“You like me, don't you?”_

_“Y-yes, but…”_

_“Then why can't you call me Zero? Isn't it cool?”_

_“No, it's cool! You're cool! But… why, Chara—?”_

_“Aw, you promised, Azzy!”_

_Asriel sighed. “Zero, why do you want me to call you Zero?”_

_“It's a cool name.”_

_“Your old name was cool.”_

_Zero snorted. “No, it wasn't.”_

_“Yeah, it was! But Zero… That's like… What's so great about Zero?”_

_“…Everything?”_

_“But I mean… It's like you're nothing. That's what zero is. Nothing.”_

_“You think too much, Azzy. It's just a name.”_

_“All right. If it's really what you want… I'll call you Zero from now on.”_

_“Thanks, Asriel.”_

 – 

Asriel came to. From what he could tell, he was slung over Frisk's— _Zero's_ —shoulder, and from that vantage point had a very interesting view of the ground. Zero had carried him all the way through the ruins and Snowdin already, and now the damp, blue-violet soil of Waterfall filled his vision. He couldn't remember if he'd passed out out of fear or stubborn defiance of Zero.

Zero.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked, not quite sure if he were asking Frisk or Zero.

Zero didn't respond.

“Why did you take Frisk's body?”

Nothing.

“Why did you kill them?”

Still nothing.

“You could've taken mine. It wouldn't have been any harder…”

Zero was silent for a long time. “I've been a passenger in a lot of different people's heads. But, you know… it's not very fun to be stuck in a body that isn't your own.”

“Frisk's body doesn't belong to you.”

“It's a close enough match.” Zero pirouetted. Asriel felt dizzy. “Fits me like a glove… You think maybe I had a twin back on the surface, and this kid is my twin's great-great-great-grandkid?”

“I wouldn't count on it.”

“Don't be so petulant. That's not the Azzy I remember.”

He kicked his legs against Zero's back. “Let me down.”

Zero patted him on the back with their free hand. “Don't push yourself too hard. You haven't had arms or legs for a long time. You can't walk all this way on your own.”

“I can too!” He wriggled. “My legs are fine.” Asriel craned his neck, trying to get a better view of his surroundings. There was a shallow stream coming up ahead. “Please just let me walk? For a few minutes?”

Zero waded through the stream, splattering muddy water all over Asriel's face and green striped sweater. Asriel spluttered. “Let me down!”

Zero stopped. They were halfway across the stream and up to their knees in water. The tips of Asriel's ears were brushing the surface. “What, right now?”

“No, no, not—!”

“Well, you're the boss!” Zero dropped Asriel into the stream. Asriel hit the water headfirst and pulled himself up, coughing and gasping for air. His now thoroughly-soaked sweater clung to his equally-drenched fur.

“You…”

Zero feigned innocence. “I was only doing what you told me to do,” they said.

 – 

_“_ _Zero, I mean it! Give it back!”_

_Zero plucked a raisin eye out of a cinnamon bunny's face, peering at it from between their thumb and forefinger before popping it into their mouth. “What's the big deal? I said I'd race you for it.”_

_Asriel was panting_ _as he tried to catch his breath_ _._ “I _never said I'd race you for it!”_

_Zero laughed as they pulled on an icing-covered pastry ear. It tore off in their hand. “Come on, you like games!”_

_“Mom bought that for me!”_

_“Us,” Zero corrected. They ate the ear. “_ _Mmm, this is_ really _good.”_

 _“Yes, us!_ _Both of us!_ _Not_ _just_ _you!”_

_Zero ate the other ear. “I'll give you your half when I'm done with mine. You can have the butt.”_

_“I don't want the butt.”_

_Zero started to work on the head. “Why not? Tastes the same as the head,” they mumbled through a mouthful of pastry._

_“Zero…” Asriel took a few steps toward his sibling, but Zero danced out of reach. “If you don't give me my half…”_

_“I'll give you your half when I'm done with mine!”_

_“Why can't we have our halves together?”_

_“You always take the bigger half, Azzy.”_

_“I do not!”_

_Zero finished the head. “Do too,” they said. “And don't think Mom and Dad haven't noticed. That's why Dad told me to take_ my _half first.”_

_“Dad wouldn't—”_

_“Mom and Dad love us equally, right? They want us to_ share _equally, too.” Zero dangled the backside of the cinnamon treat just out of Asriel's reach. “_ _You want it?”_

_“Of course I do!”_

_“Even though it's the butt?”_

_“I don't care anymore!”_

_“Okay…” Zero pulled their arm back. “Go long!”_

_“No! Drop it!”_

_Zero cocked their head. “Weird choice of words, but… Okay.” They dropped it on the ground. Within seconds, a spider claimed it, and started triumphantly dragging the sugary treat back to its web._

_“Zero…” Asriel's stomach rumbled as he watched the spider abscond with his half of the pastry. “Why…”_

_Zero pulled an innocent, “who, me?” face. “I was only doing what you told me to do,” they said._

 – 

A few minutes in Hotland was enough to dry out Asriel's clothes and fur. The sweater was ruined, unfortunately, but at least he wasn't carrying half his weight in water anymore. Asriel briefly wondered if he could muster up the strength to toss Zero into the lake of magma beneath them. Sure, it would _look_ like he'd murdered the child who had saved all of monsterkind, but…

“Lost in thought?” Zero took Asriel's hand. “Come on, there's a lot of puzzles up ahead. You know how bad you are at puzzles.”

He could do it. He could throw Zero off the path, rid the world of this horrible creature for good, and the only price he'd pay would be getting treated like a murderer and probably executed by his own dad… A small price to pay, right?

“Remember the time you got lost in Hotland, and Mom and Dad had to get Doctor Gaster to turn off all the puzzles so they could get you out?” Zero laughed.

“Who?”

“You know, Doctor Gaster.”

“Never heard of him. Are you pranking me again?”

Zero sighed. “Never mind.”

They kept walking. Hotland was filled with monsters milling around, most of whom were incredibly happy to see Frisk. Word had spread that the barrier had been broken, and the human child had been responsible, very quickly. Asriel didn't mind Frisk taking the credit, but… nobody recognized him. Some people noticed his resemblance to the King, some even told him he looked like someone they'd seen before, maybe in a book somewhere…

“No one remembers me,” Asriel mumbled faintly to himself.

“What _are_ they teaching monsters in school these days,” Zero drawled. “But don't be so down in the dumps about it. Is it any wonder no one recognizes you with all that mud all over your face?”

MTT Resort was packed with monsters—moreso than usual. Everyone was in a hurry to leave, and rumors swirled around the building, vying with one another for dominance. “I heard that Asgore killed the human, shattered the barrier, and then used the power of his tears to bring the human back to life!” “I heard that, instead of killing each other, Asgore and the human worked together to destroy the barrier!” “Yeah, and Asgore tore it in half… with his bare hands!”

“I heard that the human's in this room… right now!”

Everyone started looking around the lobby. “What do humans look like?” “They were wearing a striped shirt, right?” “How many arms do they have?” “Do they have fur, or scales?” In the commotion, Zero and Asriel quietly slipped out and headed into the Core.

The lights in the Core pulsed slowly and gently, the soft, glowing abyss beneath its modular platforms filling the rooms with crackling energy. Asriel's fur was starting to stand on end. “Let's get out of here… before I start looking like a hedgehog.” Asriel reached out for the railing, but jerked his paw back as an arc of electricity lanced between them.

Zero was beginning to smile. “You know, you really _are_ starting to look like a hedgehog,” they said, slowly raising their finger in front of Asriel's snout.

“Wait, no—”

Zero zapped him.

As Asriel tried vainly to tame his electrically-charged fur, Zero led him to their last stop on their way to the surface.

Home.

Asriel's father had left his favorite golden flowers all around the place. In vases, on tables, tucked into corners. Golden flowers—the ones Zero had used to kill themselves. The place hadn't changed a bit, otherwise—although it was much tidier without two children in the house. But from the ceiling to the floorboards—it was his home.

“No time for dawdling. We don't want to keep all our friends waiting, do we?” Zero dragged Asriel toward the stairs, but Asriel pushed their hand away.

“Just a few minutes. This is my home. _Our_ home, Zero. I haven't seen this place since… Since…” He sniffed a bit. His eyes were starting to water.

“You were here less than a day ago.”

“Yeah but I wasn't…” Asriel's memories of Flowey were draining from their head like water through a sieve. It might as well have been two hundred years ago. He wandered toward his bedroom. _Their_ bedroom. They'd both slept in the same room up until Zero had fallen ill.

Zero trudged behind him. “If you insist on reminiscing, I won't stop you. But you know, your folks are less than five minutes away. Why bother with all these musty memories when the real deal is just a hop, skip, and a jump away?”

Asriel's bed was perfectly made, his books neatly organized, his toys meticulously arranged. Everything was dusty from lack of use. The bedroom was like a tomb—no, a headstone. A monument to a dead child. A monument to _him._ He wiped the tears from his eyes.

“Maybe you fancy a nap in your old bed before we head out?”

Asriel whirled around to face Zero. “For once in your life—just—just this once can you—Y-you have a soul! Act like it!” he snapped.

Zero raised their hands, palm outward. “Calm down, kiddo. I didn't mean to rush you.”

Asriel grabbed Zero by the shoulders. “Doesn't this place mean _anything_ to you?”

Zero pushed him away, annoyed. “Just because I don't turn into a blubbering little—”

Asriel decked him for the second time. “Shut up! Just shut up, you—you selfish, self-obsessed ego-muh… m…” He stared at Zero as they picked themselves off the ground, rubbing their cheek gingerly. There was an evil glint in their eyes. “…I'm so sorry, Zero! I… I didn't mean…”

Zero took a few slow steps toward Asriel. Asriel backed away, stumbling over one of the two boxes lying on the floor. Zero closed in on him until their nose touched his. Asriel could smell their breath—as sour a breath as one would expect from a kid who hadn't brushed their teeth in days. “Asriel,” they growled.

Asriel fell on his butt. “P-please, Zero! Don't reset… I… I won't do that anymore! I…”

Zero knelt down, keeping their face close to Asriel's. “It's almost time to go. You're going to have to start calling me 'Frisk' now.”

“You… you couldn't pass for them if you tried… Everyone will know there's something wrong with you!”

Zero closed their eyes. The emotion vanished from their face. “I can do a good enough job.”

Zero helped Asriel to his feet, laying a comforting hand on his chest. “See, Frisk isn't a tough nut to crack. Deadpan, laconic, nice to people… Not that hard, is it?”

Zero was right. It wasn't that hard.

“F… Frisk…” He rolled the name around in his mouth. He'd barely even known their name before… _this_ happened. He'd spent a lifetime of resets calling Frisk by _Zero's_ name… and now he was doing just the opposite. Zero probably found it very amusing.

“Very good.” Zero led Asriel into the hallway. “Ready to go, Asriel?”

“I wanna stay here.”

“Toriel and Asgore are waiting for me over there. When they see you…”

“All right, Z—F…”

Zero nodded slowly.

“Fr… I can't do this, Zero! You're not them!”

“Asriel, please—”

“I can't do it! I… I won't! Just leave me behind. I'll just… I'll ruin your plans, even if I don't want to…”

“Do you want to spend the rest of your time alone, in your bedroom? Forever?”

“Yeah.”

Zero dragged Asriel downstairs. “No, you don't.”

 – 

Zero walked into the final chamber, just beneath the skin of the Earth, with a reluctant companion by their side. Their friends—Toriel and Asgore, Papyrus and Sans, Alphys and Undyne, and even Mettaton—had, true to their word, stayed behind for Frisk, even though the surface world beckoned. The orange rays of the setting sun, no longer muted and diffused by the barrier's unearthly hue, cast long shadows across the marble floor.

“Kept you waiting, huh?”

Toriel was the first to turn around. “Frisk! You're back! And…” Her gaze traveled to the child's side. “You… brought a… friend…”

Toriel and Asgore stared at the children with a mixture of confusion, disbelief, and… _hope._

“Human!” Papyrus shouted. “Would you care to introduce your new friend to us?”

Zero prodded Asriel forward. “Go on,” they told him.

“Uh…” Asriel waved meekly. “Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad. Hi, all of Frisk's friends.” He laughed nervously. “I'm, uh…”

 _“_ _ASRIEL!”_ Toriel cried, rushing forward and sweeping her child off his feet. “My child!”

Asgore was not far behind, and tapped lightly on Toriel's shoulder. “Tori, um, when you're done… May I have a turn?”

It had felt like a lifetime—perhaps several, even—since Asriel had felt the love of his parents. Feeling their arms around him, their kisses, their whiskers tickling against his snout… it felt like a dream. Asriel snuggled into his father's arms, nuzzling his golden beard. A dream he never wanted to wake up from.

Asriel found himself, even if only for a second, _thanking_ Zero in his head.

“It's really you, isn't it, Asriel?” Toriel gently stroked his ear.

“It's me, Mom.”

“But… _how?”_

“Frisk…” Asriel glanced at Zero. “They… They did something very…They…” His voice trembled as a lump formed in his throat. He buried his face in Asgore's chest to mask his sobs. He wanted so badly to tell them what Frisk had done… He wanted to tell them everything… But even they would be powerless against Zero.

“There, there.” Toriel patted him on the back. “Whatever they did, it must have been very dangerous. And they must have been very brave to do it.”

“Son… the stars will be coming out soon. Wouldn't you like to see them?” Asgore asked.

Zero watched the monster parents dote on their long-lost son, a faint smile on their lips.

Asgore cleared his throat. “Everybody! I have a very special announcement to make!”

Everybody turned their attention toward the King as he set Asriel down beside him. “My dear friends and loyal subjects…” Pride was written on every line of his face. “We… are going to see the stars tonight!” he roared. The room was filled with as much cheering as a handful of people could muster.

Toriel took Zero's hand. “Frisk, would you like to lead the way?”

“Do it, punk!” Undyne shouted.

“Go ahead, kid,” Sans told them. “You've earned this.”

“Make us proud, human!” Papyrus encouraged them with a hearty clap on the back.

Zero took Frisk's first step out of the underworld for them, and all their friends followed. The air outside was chilly, and smelled of a recent rain, although the sky was clear. The sky was fading from violet to deep indigo. It wasn't quite what any of the monsters expected the surface to look like… but it was wonderful.

Toriel knelt down to hug Zero. “Thank you, Frisk. This is more beautiful than any of us could have imagined.”

“No problem.”

Toriel laughed. “Oh, don't be so modest! You must take some pride in your accomplishments.”

Asgore tapped on Toriel's shoulder again. “Um, hello Tori.” He looked much smaller than he was as he fidgeted with his massive paws.

“Yes, King Asgore?” Toriel's voice was cold. “What is it?”

“Well, um… I was just thinking, Tori, it's like, well, we've got a second chance up here, haven't we? I know I've done some, er, very awful things, but… Do you think you could ever forgive a foolish wretch like me?” He bent down on one knee. “And would you be merciful enough to… take me back?”

Toriel gasped and covered her mouth with a paw. “Asgore…”

Alphys started clapping. “W-way to go, Your Majesty! I knew you could do it!”

“What a wonderful opportunity…” a familiar, booming voice declared. Alphys cringed as Mettaton broke his uncharacteristic silence. “ _A wonderful opportunity… FOR AN ENCORE BROADCAST!”_

A film crew had spontaneously appeared around the rectangular robot. “This is Mettaton, the one and only, broadcasting _live_ from scenic… The Surface! That's right, dear viewers, what you are seeing is as real as the dials on my face— _Real_ clouds, _real_ stars… _real_ _fresh air_ _!”_

Mettaton trundled toward Toriel and Asgore. Toriel hadn't even had a chance to respond to the King's proposal. “And what illustrious guests we have on our show today! I hope you don't mind, Lord Asgore, that I'm using the royal 'we' here.”

“Um…”

“Mettaton, was it? Could you give the two of us a little space, please?” Toriel asked. She seemed just a little annoyed. “The King and I have much to discuss.”

“Certainly, Your Ladyship!” Mettaton backed away. “But please keep in mind… I also do weddings!”

Asriel tugged on Toriel's sleeve. “Mom? Are you and Dad…”

Toriel patted him on the head. “It will take some discussion, little one.” She turned to Asgore. “Dear, do you mind if we work this out tomorrow morning?”

Sans came up beside Zero, as suddenly and unpredictably as he always did. His eye sockets twinkled.

“And to think, I thought I had a shot with her. Guess I couldn't quite measure up, huh, kid?”

Zero smiled, but not too widely. “Guess you're a bad marksman.”

Sans chuckled and clutched his chest. “Ouch. I think I'm becoming a bad influence on you. You're gonna let this ending stick, right?”

“Of course.”

“You're not afraid to leave anymore?”

“No way!”

Sans looked up at the sky. “Nights like these… you just wish they'd go on forever, don't you? But life just isn't worth living if you can't move forward, is it?” He nudged Zero in the ribs. “You'd better get out there and enjoy the party while it lasts. I'd join in, but after everything that's happened… I'm _bone_ tired.”

The monsters reveled well into the night. But, despite Mettaton's best efforts, it was a quiet, sedate celebration. Most were content to lie down and stare at the stars. Eventually, even he relented. “Lying down and doing nothing has always been a cherished Mettaton family tradition,” he told his audience as his camera crew knelt around him.

Asriel snuggled into his mother's lap as Toriel pointed out the stars to him. “I believe this constellation is 'Ursa Major'. See, those four stars make the body.”

“I just see a rectangle.”

“I'm sure Frisk must know much more about constellations than we do. Frisk, do you know any good cons—”

Zero was sleeping in the grass. Or, at the very least, feigning sleep. “Oh dear, this must be way past their bedtime…”

Asriel yawned.

“And yours, little one.”

Asriel almost felt guilty as he dozed off in his mother's warm arms. How could someone as horrible as Zero be responsible for something as good as this?

_Don't worry about it._

The voice in his head… “…Frisk?”

 _As evil as they are, Zero gave you what I was trying to give you all along._ _Take care of yourself, Asriel. 'Cause someone really cares about you._

 – 

_“_ _Hey, Asriel?”_

 _“What is it, Zero?” Asriel_ _pouted, still sore about the previous day._

_“Did you brush your teeth already?”_

_“Uh… Yeah. Of course.”_

_Zero's face fell. “Oh.”_

_“Why?”_

_“Well…” Zero pulled out a tiny box from under their bed. The wrapping was shoddily taped together, the ribbon inexpertly tied and scraggly. “I… kinda wanted to give you this.” He slid it along the floor toward Asriel's bed._

_Asriel picked it up. “What is it?”_

_“It's for you.”_

_“Yeah, but what's in it?”_

_“Maybe you should save it for tomorrow.” Zero rolled over onto their side, away from Asriel._

_The prince opened it anyway, tossing the white wrapping paper aside. Sitting in the box, on top of a bed of wax paper, was a pristine cinnamon bunny, its raisin eyes staring up at Asriel._

_Zero mumbled something. It sounded to Asriel like, “I'm sorry”, but it was hard to tell._

_“Wh… where did you get the money for this?”_

_Zero didn't answer._

_“You didn't_ steal _this, did you?”_

_Zero pretended to be asleep._

_“Zero…”_

_Zero did nothing._

_Asriel_ _tore the pastry in half down the middle and left one half in the box. He_ _got up and walked over to Zero's bed,_ _leaving the box on the floor, and_ _put a paw on the child's shoulder. “Thanks, Zero.”_ _He went back to his own bed. “I love you.”_

_Zero mumbled something else._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters One and Two are basically an extended prologue.  
> Things will start really heating up in the next chapter!


	3. Die Bergentrückung

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, an opera ends in tragedy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "What about that tattoo on your chest, doesn't it say, "Die Frisk, Die?"
> 
> "No, that's German for... 'The Frisk, The'."

Asriel dreamed of a moonlit field of luminescent blue echo flowers, each quietly whispering snatches of passing conversations. The sky was perfectly clear, clearer than even on that first night on the surface. Had it been two years already? He flopped onto his back and tried to find Venus.

“I'd always liked looking at them too,” Frisk said, sitting down beside him. There was the barest hint of a wistful smile on their lips. Asriel could tell, in his heart, that this was the real Frisk. “We could've been friends. That's,” they blushed a little, “uh, kinda one of the reasons I wanted to bring you back.” Frisk had gotten a bit more talkative now that they only existed in Asriel's head. Although they and Asriel could see each other in their dreams, talking was really all Frisk could do anymore.

Asriel sat up. “I uh, I think we're friends.”

Frisk plucked one of the flowers. “Not how I'd imagined.” The flower repeated their words in a ghostly imitation, fading as its light slowly died. “I just didn't want you to spend the rest of your life as that… thing.”

Asriel hugged them. “I'm sorry I did all those horrible things to you.”

“You don't have to apologize to me again, Asriel.”

“…Again?”

“You have a hard time remembering your dreams, don't you?”

“Yeah…”

“It's all right. Just try to remember this one, okay? This is, like, the thirtieth time I've forgiven you.”

Asriel sighed. “I'm sorry.”

“It's no big deal.”

“While I'm here, can we have some… less mopey dreams?”

“Sure, it's your subconscious. Would it help if I did… _this?”_ Frisk reached behind Asriel's ear and started scratching.

“Ah, Frisk, you know I'm—” Asriel struggled vainly to keep from laughing as he pushed Frisk away from him. The flowers around them echoed his laughter in tinny voices. “Really, _really—_ ” He grabbed Frisk and held them to the ground, baring his fangs. “Let's see how _you_ like it!”

Frisk no-sold his threat. “I'm not ticklish.”

Asriel caught his breath. “What, not anywhere?”

“Nope.”

“I don't believe you.”

Frisk shrugged. “You can try.”

Asriel let go of them. “Just don't do that again. Unless you give me a couple seconds' warning.”

“Can do.” Frisk stayed silent for a few moments. “How's your face feel?”

Asriel reached up and poked his cheeks. “Okay, I guess. The left side feels a little numb, though…”

“Yeah. It'll probably hurt when you wake up.”

“Why?”

 –

Asriel tugged at the stiff collar of his suit. “I look like a penguin,” he complained. “A penguin that's being slowly choked to death. And my horns itch.”

“You look like a _very_ handsome penguin. And that's just a part of growing up.” Toriel adjusted his bowtie. Asriel pretended to gag. Toriel looked at him disapprovingly.

“I have to agree with Asriel,” Asgore said. “When did human rulers and royalty all decide to start wearing these things?”

“The nineteenth century,” Zero piped up, to Toriel's approval. “The suit became fashionable in Victorian England, as a result of changes in the cultural attitudes toward gender roles and masculinity.”

“Very good, Frisk.” Toriel patted them on the head. "Although I choose to believe penguins, in fact, did have something to do with it."

“Well, it was a bad decision.” Asgore turned up his snout. “Hopefully they'll come to their senses soon enough.” The audience broke out into thunderous applause. “Finally, some appreciation for my viewpoints.”

“I think they're applauding that tiny man on the stage,” Papyrus pointed out.

The tiny man on the stage cleared his throat and began to speak. _“_ _Die Berguntrückung_ was originally composed by Wolfgang Weil in 1816. Controversial from the start, it was condemned for its irreverent satire of human society and ahead-of-its-time, er, _unconventional_ approach to orchestration. The first performance, unsurprisingly, was a flop. Many art historians have likened it to Stravinsky's premiere of  _The Rite of Spring._ It took many, many years of work to piece together a nearly-complete replication of the score, libretto, and costume design as it would have been on the night of the opera's first, and last, showing. Weil never published another musical work in his life, instead choosing to go into the lucrative field of turnip smuggling…”

The audience chuckled as the impresario droned on. “Now _that_ sounds exciting,” Undyne remarked, stifling a yawn. “Why can't the opera be about that? And also not,” she flipped through the program, “Approximately four hours and ten minutes, plus two twenty-minute intermissions!?”

“The first act opens during the last days of the Human-Monster War, with the opening duet between the Monster King and Queen, ' _Our Kingdom Is In Ruins And We Must Surrender.'_ As you can no doubt tell, it is quite a light and happy fare,” the impresario continued dryly.

"Also, he was really bad at names!"

“That's us!” Asgore exclaimed excitedly. There were a few shushings from the occupants of the nearby boxes, but most of them stopped when the shushers looked over and realized he was eight feet tall (not counting his horns). “I can't wait to see how well they've captured our likenesses, Tori!”

“Why didn't they just get you to play yourself, Dad?” Asriel asked.

“I suggested that, but I couldn't carry a tune,” the King admitted. “These things have a lot of singing in them.”

“Nobody is happy about being forced underground, understandably. But the Captain of the Royal Guard has an idea,” the impresario continued, “and disguises the only prisoner of war their side has been able to take, a bumbling cabbage farmer named Sigmund, as a monster in order to take him with them under the mountain. Of course, nothing goes as planned, and Sigmund escapes the Royal Guard, but is trapped in the Underground with the rest of the monsters.”

“So it's a story about us, but the main character is a human?” Undyne asked. “And all the monsters are just humans in funny costumes?”

“It's a token of their cultural appro—er, _appreciation,”_ Toriel responded. “As small of a step as it is… maybe next year we'll show them one of their operas with an all-monster cast and see how they like it.”

“The second act chronicles Sigmund's adventures through the monsters' new home, as he becomes embroiled in a love triangle between a farm girl and her betrothed, who just so happens to be the Lieutenant of the Royal Guard…”

“Did he just say 'left-tenant'?” Zero asked. “What's a 'left-tenant'?”

“It's how people in certain parts of the English-speaking world pronounce 'Lieutenant', Frisk,” Toriel explained.

“The love triangle culminates in a duel, which Sigmund manages to win through sheer dumb luck. He is awarded the girl's hand in marriage, and the act reaches its climax with a declaration of love between human and monster.”

“How sweet,” Papyrus commented.

“But of course, the Captain of the Royal Guard arrives on the scene, unveiling Sigmund's disguise, and announces that the human's soul will be harvested the next day. A martial aria from the Captain concludes the act. The _third_ act opens with…”

“Maybe I should be outside, securing the perimeter,” Undyne suggested.

“…A daring escape…”

Zero pulled Asriel aside. _“Hey,”_ he whispered. _“Let's see if we can sneak backstage…”_

“…Fifteen live goats…”

 _“_ _Frisk,_ _I don't think that's a good—”_

Zero made a frowny face and pointed at their pocket watch.

 _“_ _Yeah, that's a great idea, let's go.”_

“…Crushed by a massive dog…”

Papyrus flipped through the program. “King Asgore, you're being played by a 'baritone' named…'Prosciutto E. Formaggio'! It says here he played Mephistopheles in _Doctor Faustus_ last season.”

“Ooh, who's that?”

“The Devil, I think.”

“Oh.”

“…By the end, over thirty named characters have died, and the King and Queen return to lament the destruction the Captain's ambition has caused. The farm girl gives her final tearful aria, _'For My True Love Has Died And Now I Feel Nothing'_ , before driving a knife into her heart.”

“Wow, thanks for the spoilers, jerk!” The people in the adjacent boxes were much more willing to shush a fish woman than the King of Monsters, even if she could suplex boulders.

“And now, without further ado, in celebration of the second anniversary of Monster Independence Day, I proudly present the world premiere of _Die Berguntrückung,_ performed in its entirety for the first time in history!” The impresario exited the stage to raucous applause from the audience as the lights dimmed and the first notes of the overture began playing.

 – 

“They're gonna notice we're gone,” Asriel told Zero.

“Nah,” they replied as they hid from the usher's sweeping flashlight behind a garbage bin. “They're gonna be too asleep to notice that.”

“You— _you poisoned them?_ _Again_ _!?”_

Zero rolled their eyes. “It's an opera, Asriel. They'll all be asleep halfway through the overture. That's what people do at the opera.”

“How do you know so much about operas?” Asriel asked as Zero ducked under the velvet partition blocking the way backstage.

“Because I, unlike you, do my homework. You know, Azzy, you're really slipping on your studies. Toriel's gonna make you repeat the seventh grade.”

“I—I told you not to call me that…”

“And I told you that I hold your entire species' lives in my tiny hands, Azzy.”

“Stop that!”

“Make me.”

Asriel was about to grab them by their collar, then thought better of it. “How backstage are we going, Z—er, Frisk?”

“Oh, just far enough.” They paused, raising a hand in the air. “Shh. Hear that?”

Asriel strained his ears. “The overture?”

“It's starting.” Zero crept over to the ladder and motioned for Asriel to follow. “If we can get up there, we can get a bird's-eye view of the show!”

“Why?”

“Why not?” Zero started climbing.

Asriel followed him, albeit reluctantly. “Or we could go back… so I can spend some time with my family?”

“You spend enough time with them.”

“Yeah… I guess I do…”

They made it to the catwalk spanning the length of the stage. With the brilliant white stage lights hanging below them, nobody would be able to see the two miscreant children. Zero sighed theatrically. “It's tough being Frisk, Asriel,” they moaned. “I have to go all over the place, meeting all these _dignitaries_ and _diplomats_ , and Toriel has me go over all the treaties everyone wants Dad to sign to make sure they're 'fair',” they patted Asriel's hand, “and I hardly ever get to see my dear brother. You don't know how lucky you are, being a _prince.”_

"Gee, maybe you should've stolen  _my_ life instead."

"Are you _still_ on about that?" They stared down at the stage. “This is really hard for me too, you know. Do you know what it's like to have to pretend to be someone else, all the time? It's like being an actor, only it sucks. You know, I was in an opera once,” Zero told Asriel. “Kind of. Mettaton had the only speaking role. And also he pretended to try and kill me.”

“He pretended to try and kill you?”

“Yeah, kinda like… _this!”_ Zero grabbed Asriel by the shoulder and pinned him over the railing, using their free hand to cover his mouth. Asriel's feet dangled uselessly just an inch above the metal grating. Only a few more degrees, and Zero could easily send him plummeting to the stage below…

 _“_ _..._ _But I could never do such a thing, not to my own brother._ _”_ Zero whispered, their voice barely audible over the baritone's resonant singing voice. They pulled Asriel back onto the catwalk and let him catch his breath.

“What's… what's your endgame…”

Zero shrugged. “Fun.”

 _“_ _'Fun'?”_

“This has been _so much fun,_ Asriel. Really. Well, the parts you're around for.”

“What's gonna happen when you get bored?”

Zero shrugged. “I'll burn that bridge when I come to it.” They leaned over the same railing Asriel had nearly been thrown over moments earlier. “Look, you can see our box from here.” He gestured outward. “C'mon, I won't try to throw you off this time.”

Asriel inched toward the railing, staying at arm's length from his impostor of a sibling, and looked toward where Zero was pointing. Sure enough, there were their seats, and as Zero had predicted, everyone was asleep. Asriel's heart sank when he saw Asgore and Toriel dozing off at each others' sides, and thought about how much he would have rather been with them instead of standing several stories in the air with a megalomaniacal… whatever Zero was.

  _Q̛͘͝L̸͘͘͘͘R̷̵̛͜ ̛̛͘͢Ų͠P̡͟͢͞҉P͢U̵͝҉̧҉P͠͏̡P͜B̢͘͞͠I͜ ̶̢͝W̶͢͟B̡͜҉̵͟G̶͡҉G͏̴ ̕͏P͏̨Q̴̧O̧B̵̷F̶̧̨͢R̵͟ ̛ T͞HEY͞'RE͏ G̡O̵ING͏ ̵TO DI͟E Ų̸̶Q͏͏̸ ̛҉Q̛̕͡L̷̡̛͜͢R̷̶ ̷͡P͏̧̢̡͘Q͠͝U̸̡Ơ͝Q̷̢͢ ̢͟҉J͜͏͜T̢̢͡ ̵͏Q̵͘͢͜L͠҉R̷̡̡͟͠ ̡̡҉̨Q̸̕͞͠L̡B̶͟O̷̢̧E̷͠ ̕͠͡͡U̸̧͡D̷̶̨͘Q̷̴_

The intrusive thought—most of it gibberish—slammed into Asriel with a visceral, almost physical force, and left him with a feeling of intense nausea. The voice wasn't his own, and although he could sometimes hear Frisk in his head, this wasn't a voice he could imagine coming from any human child. Was he… hearing Zero's thoughts? And what language was that? He swallowed the bile rising in his throat.

“You okay there, Azzy? Afraid of heights, maybe? Try to enjoy the rest of the opera. It's a long wait, but I hear the third act is _killer._ Best seats in the house, eh?”

“Yeah, they're pretty great,” Sans said, having suddenly appeared between the children. Zero nearly choked on their own spit.

Zero spluttered a bit before regaining their composure. “How did you…”

“The same way you did,” Sans replied. “I guess.”

Sans was not wearing his usual blue hoodie. He'd managed to dye a tweed jacket bright blue. “How did you get in wearing that?” Asriel asked.

Sans shrugged. “I have my ways. Anyway, Papyrus noticed you two were gone and asked me to bring you guys back before anything happened. Or anyone noticed.”

Sans led them down to the ground floor. “I don't know if he really likes this opera stuff, or if he's just really good at not sleeping. Anyway, you guys really rattled his bones. You know how seriously he takes his job.”

Asriel glanced over at Zero. They were back in Frisk mode, presenting a stoic, inscrutable facade, but he could tell that Zero was shaken, and most likely wondering how much Sans knew, if anything.

“Hey, how about we head out for some grub after we check in with Papyrus? No one will mind as long as you're being looked after by a responsible adult.”

“Rules you out,” Zero replied. “But I think Asriel would rather spend some time with his family…”

“No, I can come along too,” Asriel said.

“All right, I'll just text my bro and let him know you two are safe.” Sans pulled out his phone and dashed off a quick message. “C'mon, I know a shortcut.”

 – 

The fiery bartender set a tall, decorative tiki mug in front of Sans, with enough foliage sticking out of it that it could almost be classified as a small forest. He'd had it ready as soon as Sans reached the bar, as if he'd been expecting the skeleton. “Tonight's special for you… and what will the kids have?”

“I want one of those,” Zero said without hesitation, pointing to Sans' drink.

“I'm gonna need to see some ID, kid.”

“What, you haven't seen me on TV?”

Sans chuckled. “What Grillby means, pal, is… well, this is an _adult_ drink.”

“The mug has a giant smiley face on it.”

“So it does, but if I let you have one of these, your mom would make crochet needles out of my tibias.” Sans turned to Grillby. “Two Cokes for the kids, please.”

“Is Pepsi okay?”

“I dunno, did something happen to Pepsi?”

Asriel and Zero both laughed in spite of themselves.

Sans pondered for a moment. “Nah, your parents wouldn't approve of me pumping you kids full of caffeine this late at night.”

“We're fourteen, Sans.” Zero was bored and fidgety, somehow, an ageless demon hiding in a child's body.

“What kind of juices d'you got?”

Grillby rattled off a few flavors. Zero just asked for water. “And three burgers,” Sans added.

“I'm actually not that hungry,” Asriel said.

“Make two of those for me, Grillbs,” Sans added. Ignoring his very adult drink, he raised a bottle of ketchup to his mouth and downed the entire thing in seconds. “So how's the ambassador gig going, Frisk?”

Zero shrugged. “I shake lots of people's hands and make a lot of speeches about love and tolerance.”

“Speeches, huh. I remember, back when we first ran into you, you could barely say a full sentence to us.” He shook his head. “They grow up so fast…”

“Toriel helps me write them. The real hard part is saying all the words right. I was on the news last night, weren't you watching?”

“Nah, I don't follow current events. I'd rather wait for 'em to become history. Wastes less time that way.” Sans flagged down the bartender. “Another bottle of your finest red, my man.”

“What are you doing now, Uncle Sans?” Asriel asked.

Sans chuckled. “Well, you'd better hold onto your butts, 'cause this is gonna knock you off your stools. I'm… a tenured professor at State University.” He nodded. “Yup. Advanced temporal mechanics. The guys at State were so impressed with my lab that they gave me an honorary doctorate.”

“Which state?” Zero asked.

Sans shrugged. “It's really more of a state of mind.”

“So you're _Doctor_ Sans now?” Asriel gaped in amazement.

“Yup. Instead of having a big model skeleton in my office, I keep a little model human.”

“What kind of things do you teach?” Zero asked.

“Well, I say 'Advanced temporal mechanics', but it's actually pretty basic stuff. Well, compared to my own research into timeline mitosis. It's like comparing the crossword to the Junior Jumble.”

“'Timeline mitosis'?” Zero was getting very curious. “What's that?”

Sans' bony hands fluttered as he searched for the right words. Asriel had never noticed his honorary uncle using such animated movements. It was as if his hands were speaking a language of their own. “It's, uh, well, um… I'd pull out my thesis, but I usually bring that up when Papyrus has trouble sleeping,” he finished lamely. “Sorry, kids.”

Zero looked disappointed.

 – 

By the time Sans returned the kids, the intermission between the second and third act was wrapping up. Asgore was snoring, much to the annoyance of the surrounding audience, and both Toriel and Undyne had dozed off as well. Papyrus was paying rapt attention, leaning his bony forearm on the gilded edge of the box. “Sans! You've missed a wonderful second act! I haven't been able to leave my seat for the past two hours!”

“That good, huh,” Sans commented as he shepherded the kids into the box.

“Oh, it's such a touching story! And I never knew music could be so… so sublime…” Papyrus wiped a tear from his socket. “I can't wait to find out what happens to Sigmund…”

“The whole plot is right in the program,” Zero pointed out.

“Perhaps it is, Frisk,” Papyrus retorted, “and perhaps that is nothing more than a ruse, meant to lull the audience into a false sense of security, _when_ (in actuality) the true ending is far more shocking!”

Someone tried to shush Papyrus, noticed that he resembled the grim avatar of human mortality, and quickly excused himself from the theater.

“Will you be joining us for the third act, Sans?”

“Nah. Opera really isn't my… _forte.”_

“Oh my god, Sans, just leave, will you?” The curtain began to rise and the lights dimmed. Zero joined Papyrus for the finale, while Asriel was content to snuggle between his parents and, for the first time in a long while, get a good night's sleep.

_Asriel._

“Frisk? Is that you?”

_Shh. Talk to me in your head._

Asriel focused on projecting his thoughts inward. _I'm trying to sleep…_

_S_ _orry. I'll try again some other time. Wake up!_

_Frisk, do you know how long it's been since I've slept_ _like this_ _?_ Asriel snapped.

S _orry. I'm irritable. So are you._ _Nothing about this is fun_ _._ _Just… put it off for another five minutes. Zero hired an assassin to kill your parents tonight._

_What!?_

_An assassin. As in, a man who kills people for money._

_I mean, how do you know?_

_I can read their mind. You can, too, but most of their thoughts aren't on your wavelength._

That must have been the gibberish Asriel had heard. _Why didn't you tell me before we spent two hours eating burgers and watching Sans drink ketchup?_

_If you wanted to talk to me sooner, you should've fallen asleep sooner. I really botched this whole soul transfer thing._

_Yeah. Also, why an assassin?_

_Maybe you haven't noticed yet, but… Zero likes hurting people. A lot. I'm sorry. It's hard not to get snippy right now._

Asriel jolted awake, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and looked around. The conversation between him and Frisk was already starting to fade away, like a dream, but he remembered, there was something important about it…

_Assassin._

Asriel cast a nervous eye around the theater, looking for anything suspicious. It was so big, and there were so many people… He crept over to Zero. _“Frisk,”_ he whispered. _“Where's the…”_ He held his tongue and mentally kicked himself. He'd almost asked Zero where the assassin was! _“The, uh, bathroom?”_

Zero looked at him. “To your left, down the stairs.”

 _“_ _Thanks.”_ Asriel stood up, rushed out of the box, and ran into a tall man in a black jacket on his way in, knocking him over. He apologized profusely as the man collected himself and stood up. “Hey, kid.” The man looked down at him. “Is this Box 3-A?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Thanks, kid.” He pulled a pistol out of his jacket and aimed it at the back of Asgore's head. Asriel screamed and rammed into the man with all of his strength. The assassin's shot went wild as he fell to the ground, shattering a light fixture high overhead. The assassin struggled to his feet, trying to shake Asriel off and take aim. By then, of course, Papyrus and Undyne had been roused into action, and the man's struggles ceased when he found himself staring down a spear of aquamarine lightning.

“Drop it, punk,” Undyne snarled through crooked fangs. The man complied, raising his shaking hands up. The opera was still going on, but the audience's attention was starting to turn toward the action on the other side of the theater.

“I told you there'd be a twist, Frisk!” Papyrus told Zero. “That gun almost looks real!”

Asriel let go of the assassin. The assassin didn't let go of him, though, and Asriel found another pistol, secreted from the man's left sleeve, pointed at the side of his head.

Undyne didn't lower her spear. The assassin didn't lower his gun. By now, Asgore and Toriel had woken up, and even though they towered behind Undyne, Asriel could see in their eyes that both of them were afraid to make a move.

 _Maybe I'm the target,_ Asriel though. _Is Zero bored with me already?_ _Did they put out a hit on me!?_ He tried to say something, but all that came out of his mouth was a barely-audible squeak. _Frisk, what do I do?_

“Drop the gun. Again.” Undyne demanded.

“Drop the spear.”

“I asked you first.”

“I'm an assassin, not a gentleman.”

“If you were a gentleman, I'd be asking politely.”

The assassin tightened his grip on the trigger. “Drop the spear.”

Undyne's spear dispersed, leaving behind nothing but a few luminous green sparks floating in the air. The assassin aimed the gun at Asgore, and Asriel dug his elbow as deep into his stomach as he could. It wasn't a very forceful jab, and the man's abdomen felt like solid concrete, but the yellow-gold flame Asriel was able to wreath around his arm was enough to set the human's shirt and tie ablaze. As the assassin screamed and crumpled to the floor, his gun went off right next to Asriel's head with a deafening roar. The world went quiet, the frantic din of the orchestra below replaced by a high-pitched whine in Asriel's ears. The left side of his face felt like it was on fire. He couldn't hear himself, or anyone else for the matter, but thought he might be screaming.

The assassin stumbled forward as the fire engulfed his upper body. Before he passed out, Asriel saw Zero sneak behind the man, give him a gentle push, and send him tumbling over the parapet to the audience below.

Zero looked at Asriel and winked. They kept their left eye closed for an uncomfortably long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OPERA FUN FACTS FOR KIDZ:
> 
> So this is one of my favorite stories about the world of opera (next to Gioachino Rossini "forgetting" to write an overture until the day of the premier, or Gioachino Rossini being so lazy that he dropped the pages he'd been working on and decided to just start from scratch instead of getting out of bed to pick them up, or Hector Berlioz going on a crossdressing adventure to get revenge against his ex-girlfriend and giving up after taking the wrong train... twice...). Famous/infamous composer Richard Wagner originally had no interest in music, and wanted to be a great dramatist. His first play, "Leubald", featured over forty characters dying over the course of four acts. The audience nearly died as well--of laughter. From that day on, Wagner decided that the only way to make people react correctly to his very serious stories was to surround them with very serious music, and if no one else could do it, he'd just have to teach himself how to do music!


	4. Bright Eye, Burning Blade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Undyne introduces Asriel to anime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starring Kiefer Sutherland as Venom "Punished" Asriel

Asriel woke up in his own bed. Warm golden sunlight streamed in from the open window. The past night felt like a bad dream, but the bandages wrapped around his forehead and covering his left eye told him otherwise. He gingerly pulled them off, then realized something was wrong. It took a few seconds for him to realize what it was. The left side of his field of vision was dark.

“My eye...” he moaned. He reached up to feel around his eye. The skin around it was scarred and burned, and he could tell that the eyeball was still there, it just… wasn't working. There was a hand mirror on the nightstand, but he didn't want to look into it.

There was a knock on the door, startling him. He didn't answer the door, but it opened anyway. “Hey, kiddo,” a familiar voice whispered from the other side. It was Undyne's. “I've got a—” She stopped when she saw Asriel. “Oh! You're awake!” She rummaged through the gift bag she was holding. “I've got something for you, now that you're up.”

“H… how long was I asleep?” His voice was raspy.

“Just a few days. And man, it could've been a lot more. The doctors said you were, uh, 'running on fumes'. That whole bit with the assassin was just what you needed to push your body into shutdown mode for a little bit. Oh, and,” she pulled a small pink package out of the bag and handed it to Asriel, “I'm so, so, sorry about your eye.” She averted her eye from Asriel. “It was all my fault.”

Asriel tore open the package. It was a simple black eyepatch; like Undyne's, but less ragged. “I thought you might prefer something a little more ornamental, like, you know, for all the fancy functions you have to go to, but nothing beats the simple stuff for comfort and functionality…”

“Thanks, Undyne.” He put the eyepatch on. It fit perfectly. “I really appreciate it…”

“It looks good on you,” she told him, pulling a strained smile.

“Are you just saying that?”

“No, it really does look good on you! I'm just, really, really, really…”

“It's okay.”

“Yeah.” Undyne pulled out her phone. “Wanna see?”

“Uh… Sure.”

Undyne fiddled with the phone, then pulled Asriel to her side. “Say 'eyepatch selfie'!” She aimed the phone camera at the two of them them, and Asriel caught his face in the phone's screen next to hers. She hadn't been lying, but… it was his _eye._ His remaining good eye started to well up just as she took the picture.

“You okay, Asriel?”

“Yeah,” he sniffled, rubbing the tears out. “It's just a lot to deal with.”

He and Undyne sat on the foot of the bed. He looked at the photo. “I'm sorry I ruined it.”

“No way! You look great. Very anime,” she added.

Asriel laughed in spite of himself. “Is crying anime?”

“Yup. Crying is very anime.” Undyne pulled out a carefully-wrapped slice of pie from the gift bag. “Your mom and dad were here yesterday and heard you talking in your sleep a bit, so they thought you were about to wake up. Toriel rushed out and baked this for you.” She handed to pie to Asriel, who wolfed half of it down without a moment's hesitation. He didn't even give any thought to what it tasted like. Maybe it missed all of his taste buds altogether. He hadn't eaten in a few days, after all. Undyne pulled out her phone and started tapping on it. “Just gonna let your parents know you've come to.”

Asriel finished the last few bits of the pie. “I bet you'd like something to wash that down,” Undyne said, pulling a glass of water from the gift bag. Well, it _had_ been a glass of water. Now it was just an empty glass, and the bottom of the bag was soggy. “Should've gotten a bottle of water instead.” She shrugged. “You know, Alphys could make you a really cool bionic eye. You could see in infrared, or shoot lasers out of it!”

“Then why don't _you_ have a bionic eye?”

“Duh. Eyepatches are badass!” She quickly added, “Don't tell your mom I taught you that word.”

“Frisk taught me that word.” It wasn't exactly a lie.

Undyne nodded with approval. _“Exactly.”_

Asriel thought for a moment. “Hey, before Mom and Dad get here, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Can you teach me how to do all that stuff with spears?”

Undyne burst out laughing. “Don't want to depend on me for protection anymore, huh? Am I doing that bad of a job? Or are you looking to fight someone?”

“No, it's not that! You're great!” Asriel shrugged. “But, if you're not up to the task…”

Undyne pounded on the bed. “Of course I am! I'll make you the greatest warrior-king the world has ever seen! Armies will tremble before you!”

There were three loud, yet gentle knocks on the door. “May we come in?”

“Meet me at the training fields as soon as you feel ready.” Undyne stood up and headed for the door. “I bet your folks really want to see you.”

Undyne opened the door, and Asriel's parents walked through. She saluted. “I've warmed him up for you, Your Lord and Ladyships.”

Asgore patted her on the shoulder. “Thank you, Captain.” He and Toriel knelt down on opposite sides of the prince. The room quickly felt very crowded, even with only the three of them.

“Hi, Mom.” Asriel turned his head so he could see his father's face. Asgore was smiling, even though there were tears in his eyes. “Hi, Dad.”

“You were very brave back there, son.”

“I didn't feel very brave.”

Asgore laughed. “Asriel, the only people who ever _feel_ brave when they do brave things are…”

“Not very smart,” Toriel chimed in, clasping Asriel's paws. “Courage is doing the right thing, even if it frightens you.”

“Like when I had to… ask your mom to forgive me,” Asgore said, looking somewhat sheepish. Toriel nodded.

“How are you feeling, dear?” Toriel asked him. “Is there anything we can get for you?”

“I'd like some water, please…”

“The eyepatch makes you look _very_ distinguished.”

Toriel shot Asgore an exasperated “shut-up” look and very carefully ran a finger over Asriel's eyepatch. “Once the skin around your eye heals, dear, we can get you a very nice prosthetic.”

“Can it shoot lasers?”

Toriel was taken aback. “Um… I supposed, if you really wanted… Why would you want an eye that shoots lasers, Asriel?”

“I'll just stick with the patch, if that's okay.”

“You'll make a great leader with that, son!” Asgore clapped him on the back. “Diplomacy is mostly just intimidation, anyway.”

“Really?”

Asgore shrugged. “You show them your fire magic, they show you their armies, you show them your… What did Doctor Alphys call it, Tori?”

“It was a 'nuclear-equipped fail-deadly automated defense system', Asgore. And it was actually just that Mettaton character with some spare parts bolted onto his back.” Toriel “hmph”'d. It didn't look like she'd approved much of that particular idea.

“Lying,” Asgore explained to Asriel, “is the rest of diplomacy.”

“It's just going to—” Toriel sighed. “Let's not talk about work today, okay? We've almost got dinner ready, and… Can you walk? If you can't, or if you'd like to lie down for a bit longer, we can just have it brought to us…”

“No, no, it's fine, I…” Asriel started to get up, then decided against it. “Dinner in bed sounds kind of fun, actually.”

 –

Within a day, “Operation Warrior-King” had quickly devolved into “Operation Watch Anime and Cry”. It wasn't that Undyne and Asriel had _given up_ , just that he'd told her not to show him any special treatment, she'd chucked a spear at his head at full force, Toriel had just happened to have been walking past the training grounds… and Asriel's first lesson ended very quickly.

Undyne wasn't discouraged, as hard as it was to deal with a dressing-down from Asriel's mother. “We'll have to continue your training in secret!” She pounded a fist into her hand. “At night! Wearing masks!”

“If you come up with a lesson plan and show Mom you're really serious about teaching me, she'd probably be okay with it,” Asriel suggested. “We can start with simple exercises and work our way up to throwing spears at my head.”

“But _secret training,”_ Undyne pouted.

“But Mom throwing you in the dungeon,” Asriel retorted.

Undyne threw up her hands. “Ugh! Fine! We'll do things your mom's way.” She turned her attention toward the TV. “Whoa, wait.” She grabbed Asriel by the top of his head and twisted him to face the screen.

Her urgency disoriented Asriel for a moment. Had something terrible just happened? “What is it?”

Undyne grabbed the remote and dialed up the volume. “Shirou's gonna use the Destiny Libertank's wing funnels for the first time! This scene is _siiiiiiiiick!”_

“Oh,” Asriel said.

“OHHHHHHHH!!!” Undyne whooped. On the screen, an extraordinarily handsome anime boy was monologuing passionately about justice.  _"This hand of mine glows with an awesome POWER!"_ the hero shouted. As the music swelled to a crescendo, the blue-and-white robot the hero commanded posed dramatically, its wings shooting off to all corners of the screen and shooting up dozens of identical robot goons. A J-rock song with violins started playing in the background as the minor characters gaped in wonder. “THIS SONG IS MY JAM,” Undyne shouted.

 _“_ _Impressive_ _,”_ the enemy army's masked ace pilot mused, effortlessly dodging the hero's laser blasts. _“So you were able to stay true to your pacifist ideals, after all…”_

“And the best thing is,” Undyne gushed, “Shirou only targets their limbs and weapons systems, so he can stay true to his pacifist ideals… If only Alphys were here with us, she eats this crap up…”

“That guy right there just got hit in the chest and blew up,” Asriel said, as one of the enemy mooks erupted into a ball of flames.

“That's just stock footage from Episode 23. This isn't an OVA, they have to reuse animation cels to keep the costs down.” Undyne turned to him, still smiling fiercely. “Let's try that!”

“I-is that your lesson plan?”

“Yeah!” Her eye was sparkling. “Watch an anime, pick a super move, and I'll teach you how to do it!”

“Does it have to be a giant robot anime? Because I'm not a giant robot…”

“How about martial arts anime? I could teach you the Fist of the Big Dipper!”

“What's that?”

“You punch a guy's pressure points a million times and tell him he's gonna have a bad time. And then his head explodes.”

“Do _you_ know how to do it?”

Undyne grimaced. “Alphys and I are… still trying to find out how pressure points work.” Her scales started to turn red. “Not in _that_ way.”

“What way?”

Undyne squeezed Asriel. “You'll understand when you're older.”

 –

Asriel collapsed to his knees, panting with exhaustion. “Okay,” Undyne said, taking a look at the wooden stick-men she'd stuck into the dirt all throughout the training field. “You didn't hit a single one of my combat training dummies…”

“I'm really sorry, they just looked too much like people!”

Undyne came over and patted him on the back. “That's okay. You're your dad's kid, all right…”

“…I am?”

“Yeah! You probably don't even know how strong he really is, he's such a softie!” She started removing the heads from the dummies. “Try again. If it helps, just aim for one of them.”

Asriel stood up on shaking legs and caught his breath. “Okay…” Undyne stood behind him, arms crossed. He aimed for the dummy in the farthest corner of the field. “Here goes…” He conjured a little ball of golden flames and, after hesitating for a few seconds, threw it.

It didn't fizzle out a second after flying out, like the first few tries. This time, the fireball hit the target and went up in a pillar of flames. All of the rest of the dummies were singed. Undyne clapped and examined the carnage from a safe distance. “There was a lot of raw power in that hit, but if that were a mobile target, you would've had to depend on the shockwave hitting them. You'd waste all your strength before you made even a dent in their armor. We need to work on rationing your energy and increasing your speed and precision.” She conjured up one of her spears and handed it to Asriel, who grasped it with trepidation. “And proper throwing technique.” She coached him on the proper way to hold a projectile, the right stance, how to position his center of mass. “Okay, now aim for…” She pointed to a nearby dummy. “That one's right leg.”

Asriel aimed. “No, no, go lower.” Undyne brought his arm down a little lower. “My spears aren't affected by gravity, like normal projectile weapons. You don't have to adjust your aim.”

He threw the spear. It went wide.

“You do, however, have to adjust for your lack of depth perception…”

The rest of Asriel's lessons blurred together. At the end of each day, he was sore in places he didn't even know could have gotten sore. But every day he felt stronger, happier, and a little more in control of his life. It helped that Zero was spending so much time abroad, although Asriel often worried about what they might be doing while nobody was watching. He ate more, slept better, and, despite how exhausting Undyne's training was, he was even doing better in his studies (although he was nowhere near as precocious as Frisk, who would always make their displeasure known to him if he started nodding off during one of his mom's lectures). He gradually progressed through Undyne's lesson plan over the next few months, and while he was nowhere near close enough to start suplexing boulders, he could tell that she was proud of his progress. Eventually, Undyne started training him to survive her fiercest and strongest attacks but admitted to him that it was starting to take all of her skills just to survive _his_.

Asriel didn't take this news well, and started pulling his punches—much to Undyne's displeasure.

–

Asriel's final lesson came much sooner than he'd anticipated. Against his protests, Asgore and Toriel had come to cheer him on from the side of the field, as if it were a sport. They both gave him great big hugs.

“Stay safe,” Toriel said. “If anything happens to you…”

“Don't worry, mom,” Asriel said with a smile. “Undyne's not that bad of a teacher—her exams can't be much harder than yours!”

Asgore tousled Asriel's silvery mane-in-progress. His paw was still larger than Asriel's head. “Toriel's got nothing to worry about. I know you'll make me proud.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Asriel looked around. To his relief, there was one person missing. “Frisk couldn't make it?”

“They've got that interview tonight on the Nightly Show,” Toriel said.

“Oh, is that the one with that guy with the glasses?” Asgore asked.

“No, that's the Tonight Show. The Nightly Show has the man with the chin, honey.”

“Ah, yes, that chin.” Asgore stroked his beard. “It's funnier than most of his jokes.”

Asriel took his position in the middle of the makeshift arena. The sun had nearly dipped below the horizon, and some stars were already appearing in the violet sky. Undyne had set up a ring of powerful electric lamps around the arena. Papyrus had set up a gaggle of wooden dummies as mock spectators, and had draped little red scarves over some of them. “Those are _my_ adoring fans,” he said. “The rest are yours, Young Lord,” he added with a deferential bow.

Asriel took a deep breath and summoned a golden polearm of his own, a partisan which flickered and wavered as if made from tongues of flame. Thin, thorny vines of light wrapped around the shaft in a double-helix pattern. The spearhead was broad, like the blade of a longsword, and had a bladed cruciform hilt.

Undyne and Papyrus took their places on the edge of the arena. “The rules are simple,” she announced. “Everyone gets three hits. Last person standing wins. No head shots. That's… kind of it.”

“You forgot one rule!” Papyrus interjected. “The losers… must repeat the seventh grade!”

Undyne looked at him. “None of us are in school, except for Asriel. And he's homeschooled, so I don't think that counts.”

“I know! That's what makes it even more humiliating! It would be awkward, and none of us would have any friends!”

“Ready, Asriel?” Undyne called out, summoning a spear of her own. Papyrus prepared his bones. Asriel could tell he was going to start with his signature “blue attack”.

Asriel adopted a combat stance. “Ready!”

“Go!” Asgore shouted from the audience.

On cue, both Undyne and Papyrus attacked. Asriel let Papyrus' cyan bones pass through his body harmlessly, but had more difficulty with Undyne's spears. He sidestepped to the right, nearly getting hit by a lance of electric blue-green, then froze as one final blue bone passed through him.

“Technically, that was seven hits!” Papyrus called out.

“That doesn't count,” Undyne called out, still throwing spears his way. “Keep going!”

Asriel could feel a blue aura pressing down on him, holding him to the ground. He clumsily dodged a few spears and managed to knock away one with his own partisan. Asgore cheered.

A cluster of bones flew his way, hitting him in the chest and knocking him over. That was one hit. Asriel didn't intend to get hit again, but with the blue aura pinning him down, it was difficult to find a better position. He flung his partisan in Papyrus' direction, hitting the skeleton's battle armor. It glanced off, as Asriel was putting as little strength as possible into his shots, but it still counted as a hit.

Asriel swung his head to the left, overcompensating for his blind spot, and barely dodged an attack from Undyne. He conjured another golden partisan and threw it. She dodged it easily and moved in closer. A phalanx of spears materialized behind her and flew past her, as another wave of bones drew furrows across the dirt. Asriel rolled out of the way of the bones, the spears passing harmlessly overhead, and threw another polearm toward Papyrus. This one hit him in the leg, knocking him onto one knee.

Asriel felt a tap on his shoulder. While he'd been dealing with Papyrus, Undyne had gotten behind him. That was his second hit. He focused his energy into the ground and shot a ring of partisans up from underneath the soil, knocking Undyne backwards and barely blocking another bone attack from Papyrus.

While Undyne was reeling, Asriel sent another partisan toward her, hitting her right shoulder and knocking her off-balance. With her blind eye facing him, he took the opportunity to throw another partisan, but Undyne was far too experienced to fall for that trick. She ducked and threw another spear his way. The spear nicked his ear (which, thankfully, didn't count) and sailed past, hitting Papyrus in the chest. That was three hits on the poor skeleton.

“Watch where you're throwing those things!” Papyrus picked himself up and walked out of the arena in a huff.

Asriel felt the blue aura lift off of him, and instantly felt lighter. Undyne's next flurry of spears were much easier to dodge. Asriel knew what was coming next as a green aura, like the blue one from before, descended upon him, freezing him in place. Aside from changing direction, he couldn't move an inch. He turned to face Undyne as she circled him, knowing that if she got onto his left side, it was all over.

Her next volley of spears came from all directions, and Asriel whirled around to face each one head-on. Whenever he could, he hurled another partisan toward Undyne, but she was always just a little ahead of him. As long as he was “green”, he wouldn't be able to escape, or get any hits in.

Asriel allowed his partisan to flicker out for just a moment, and gathered his energy around himself. The spears were getting harder to block, coming from all directions in unpredictable patterns. Some even spun around to attack him from a different angle just as they closed in on him. Asriel focused his strength around himself, hoping that his gamble would pay off. It was very difficult to have a trick up your sleeve when your teacher had literally taught you everything you knew, but he had one.

Frisk thought a good name for it was “aura regia.” They said it was a reference to something.

Asriel imagined a golden aura burning through the green one Undyne had trapped him in, calling forth his own fire to envelop his body. The green veil clouding his vision faded away. His body was freed.

As a volley of spears from all directions closed in on him, Asriel leaped into the air. The spears passed through each other harmlessly and continued on to the opposite sides of the arena. It was Undyne's turn to dodge her own attack, and although she was caught off-guard, she managed to avoid every single one of her own weapons.

At the apex of his jump, Asriel summoned his own volley of polearms, creating ring after concentric ring of golden lances and sending them plummeting toward the ground. Undyne ran toward the center of the arena, out of the way of the barrage, and prepared a volley of her own to greet Asriel as he fell.

Asriel's quick footwork saved him from the spears lancing up from underneath him when he hit the ground. Undyne jabbed at him, catching a bit of his shirt, but he caught her spear with the hilt of his blade and flung the spear out of her grasp. Before she could conjure another weapon, Asriel knocked her to the ground with a sweep of his leg.

The last of Asriel's airborne weapons hit the ground. He thrust his partisan's fiery blade at her chest and stopped short. There was a heavy silence in the air as their eyes locked. Asriel and Undyne were both exhausted, and it showed in both their faces. Undyne's mouth was drawn in a tight grimace.

Asriel lightly poked Undyne. “Boop,” he said.

She burst out laughing as Asriel helped her up. “Looks like it's back to school for me and Papyrus!”

Asgore lifted Asriel over his shoulders and roared in appreciation. “That was amazing!” He set Asriel down and patted him on the shoulders. Asriel nearly collapsed from the force. “I'm so proud of you.”

“I'm still not sure why you wanted to learn how to do all this stuff, dear…” Toriel handed Asriel a glass of water, which he poured over his head. He immediately wished he'd drank it instead.

“The martial arts teach discipline, self-respect, responsibility, and self-respect.” Asgore beamed. “Every prospective ruler should be well-versed in such things.”

“You said self-respect twice, sweetie.”

“It teaches a lot of it!”

“You're a wizard, Asriel,” Undyne admitted to him. (“ _Prince_ Asriel,” Papyrus corrected her.) “I've never seen anyone get this good, this fast.”

“You're a good teacher.”

Undyne laughed weakly. “I can't take all the credit here.” She pulled out one of the dozens of aquamarine spears poking out of the ground. “Sometimes it didn't feel like I was teaching you anything, just reminding you of things you already knew and just forgot.”

Asriel leaned against a cluster of spears, drunk on his accomplishments. “Well, I don't mean to brag, but I _was_ pretty strong back when I was that soulless abomination, F—”

Undyne looked at him funny, as did everyone else. “Back when you were…?”

“Asriel, that's a very disturbing thing to say about yourself!” Toriel was shocked. “I'll admit, you were a very rambunctious toddler, but _soulless abomination_ seems quite harsh!”

“Um.” He figured he would have had to come clean sooner or later. Zero had always been (rightfully) wary of his loose lips.

So he told his parents, Papyrus, and Undyne about everything. At first he'd planned on stopping after the whole ultimate death god showdown he'd had with Frisk, but by the time he'd finished that story, he couldn't stop, and before he knew it, he'd told everyone about Zero. Still high on the exhilaration of the battle, he had barely noticed how long he'd babbled on.

Toriel and Asgore were still going over the story in their heads, both looking equally concerned and horrified. Papyrus looked a little confused. “That was _you,_ Your Lordship?” the skeleton asked.

Asriel nodded. “I'm really sorry about everything, Papyrus.” But Papyrus wouldn't hear of it. “I can't believe I was… _friends…_ with royalty!” He crossed his arms over his sternum. “Of course, as a prince, you have excellent taste, and keep only the best company…”

Undyne stared blankly at the prince.

“I know it's all really hard to believe, but it's true,” Asriel insisted.

He realized that Undyne was staring behind him, not at him, and turned around.

In the corner of the field, bathed in shadow, was a human child with piercing red eyes.

“Did I miss anything good?”


	5. Aura Regia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Asriel has some heart-to-hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [MUFFLED ANIME MUSIC PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND]

Zero had grown over the past summer. Asriel had only seen them on very rare occasions since he'd started his training, and although the human had always been a little taller than him, they'd hit their growth spurt much earlier. They towered over him.

Toriel turned toward Zero with a stern glare. “Frisk… my child… is this true?”

Zero wore a pained face. “O-of course not! Mom, Asriel's been through a lot of really rough stuff. He's not well,” they pointed to their head, “up here. He needs our help…”

Either Asriel was exceptionally tired or Frisk was exceptionally mad; Asriel could hear them screaming in his head. _NO! That is NOT me!_ _Give me back my body, you_ _parasite_ _!!!_

“T-they're l-l-lying,” Asriel stammered. Toriel took a step toward the demon child. “Stay away from them, Mom!”

Toriel knelt down and stared into Zero's eyes. “Tell me it's not true, Frisk,” she pleaded. “Tell me you're still the child I saved all those years ago… Tell me you're the child who saved all of us…”

“Of course I am… Mom, don't you recognize me?” Tears filled up Zero's eyes.

Asriel took a step forward, trembling with rage, but Asgore held him back. “Please, Dad! Don't you believe me!?”

Asgore lowered his head. “Son… were you really that flower, all those years ago?”

“Yes! That was me! I'm sorry about all of that!”

Zero turned their back on Toriel. “You don't love me… You never did… Why did I ever think we could have been a family…?”

Toriel stood up. “You— You—! I know human teenagers go through a lot of changes, but the real Frisk would never say such a thing!”

“You can't tug on our heartstrings anymore, Zero!” Asriel shouted, emboldened by his parents' support. “It's over!”

“Yeah. You're right.” Zero turned back around, looking past Toriel, and locked eyes with Asriel. “Well, Azzy, it's been real. We've had a lot of fun these past two years, haven't we?”

A pit formed in Asriel's stomach, the warmth vanishing from his body. Everything he'd done, all the ways he'd played along with Zero's sadistic mindgames over the years, it had all been for nothing. “Please, no…”

“Yes, dear brother…” Zero walked around Toriel. “Time to reset… Time to start it all, and end it all, over and over and over again…”

Asriel could feel his eye start to go dark. Was this the end? _Asriel,_ Frisk whispered in his head. _Don't give up… Stay determined!_ Undyne and Papyrus propped Asriel up as his legs collapsed beneath him.

Zero grinned. “I'll be seeing you all very, very soon. I wish you could remember, but… You know how it is.”

Asriel was barely conscious as the two Royal Guards began to drag him away. _Asriel… Their ability to “reset”… It's an ability of their soul._ He could almost feel Frisk's gentle arms around him. He wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and dream again… _It's just like Papyrus' “blue” or Undyne's “green” ability._ _You_ _know how to_ _beat_ _that!_

Asriel found his bearing and pushed Undyne and Papyrus aside. “Zero!” he called out. “Before you reset… let me fight you! One last time!” He stepped in front of Asgore, stumbling a bit. _It's just a hunch… but that “golden soul” of ours_ _… that_ _ _“aura regia__ _ _ _…_ ”_ is the best chance we've got!_

Zero smiled. “Who am I to deny a dying child his last wish?” They pulled a knife from their pocket, then after a moment's thought, dropped it to the ground. “No, no, that wouldn't be _fair_ ,” they muttered. They curled their left hand into a fist, then raised an index finger. “This should be enough… The right one's too strong for you, anyway.” Zero's crimson eyes sparked as they pointed toward Asriel. “Before I reset, I'm going to kill you, Asriel! With one finger! And your parents are going to watch!”

Toriel grabbed Zero by the scruff of their neck and raised them high above the ground. Her free hand burst into flames. “You will do no such thing. And _we will not stand idly by while you threaten us.”_ Zero stood still, without even struggling. They knew, just as Asriel knew, that she couldn't bring herself to hurt them as long as they still wore Frisk's face.

Nobody had told Toriel that.

She threw Zero into the stands, into the dummy crowd Papyrus had so carefully constructed, and with a wave of her arms, lit them ablaze. Asriel had never before heard the roar that had torn itself from her throat, and sincerely hoped he'd never hear it again.

Zero stepped out of the crackling flames, patting out an errant flame on their scorched sweater. “You pulled your punches. As usual. I still remember the first time you tried to burn me—I killed you with one hit.” They looked down on Asriel. “Would you like me to fight your mom in your stead?” they sneered.

“You will have to fight both of us.” Asgore walked forward. “Undyne… Papyrus… Take Asriel and run. This is my final command to you two.” He steeled his gaze as Undyne backed away. “Human,” he growled. A massive red trident coalesced in his paws. “It seems I was a poor judge of character. I'll try to end this quickly.”

“So will I.” Zero sprinted forward, effortlessly dodging Toriel's flames and Asgore's trident, and closed the distance between themselves and Asriel before he could raise a fist in self-defense. They jabbed a finger into the prince's throat. Asriel could feel Zero's killing spirit radiating from their body like an evil miasma. They could easily crush his throat.

Zero was right.

They were going to kill Asriel, and his parents were going to watch.

Asriel closed his eye. _“Good choice,”_ Zero whispered to him. _“You don't want the last thing you see to be your parents' faces…”_

_T͞HIS̷ I͏S̨ ͘GO̷I͘NG͜ TO͘ BE͞ ̛SO ͞M͏U͟C̡H FU͝N, L͟I͟T̛T̷L̢E͠ MƠ̷NS̛͟TE̸͘͜Ŗ̨—̶A͠LB̨E͢͏I̷Ţ̵ ̧͏RE̡G̢͞R̢E̸T͞҉T̴͘A̷BL͘Y̵̕͟ ͘ ̵̕S̴͞͡Ḩ͡͡Ǫ̡̕R̵̴̢͘T҉̡̕  
_

Asriel took a deep breath, drawing his focus inward, as he had done before. And then he started laughing.

Zero backed away, confused, as Asriel threw back his head and cackled.

“Oh, how the tables have turned… I've always been a lot smarter than you gave me credit for, Zero… I've manipulated you right in range of… _My ultimate technique!”_

Undyne fist-pumped. “I'm the best teacher ever!” she shrieked. “Suplex the little twerp!”

"This is for sharing that gyro with me!" Asriel socked Zero in their bemused face. "And then telling me what the meat in it was!" He punched them again. "And then laughing at me and calling me a cannibal for a week!" He hit Zero with a solid right hook. "Lamb isn't even the same _thing_ as goat, you idiot!" Zero reeled backwards. "And this...  _This is for Frisk!"_ Asriel grabbed Zero by the shoulder with one paw, wrenched their arm away with the other, pulled them toward him… and hugged them.

Zero squirmed in his embrace. “Wh… What are you doing? What is this!?”

“This… _is my ULTIMATE TECHNIQUE!”_

Papyrus wiped a tear from his socket as Undyne's face fell. “A true warrior always knows when not to do violence… Oh, they grow up so fast, Captain…”

And then Asriel and Zero burst into flames. Zero screamed in agony, although the golden fire engulfing them gave off no heat. They clawed at Asriel, their fingernails tearing at his eyepatch. “Let me go! _Let me go, you beast!”_ they screeched. Undeterred, Asriel placed a paw on Zero's chest and closed his eye. The brilliant light of his fire, which should have bled through his eyelids, faded into an inky, dark void.

Asriel could see Zero's soul in his head, pulsing blood-red against an infinite blackness. He reached out toward it, his aura flickering, a candle at the end of its wick, and grabbed it. The soul resisted—it felt as though hot needles were being driven through his palm. A vision of a horrible face flashed before him, a human face with wide, empty holes where eyes should be and a vacuous smile from ear to ear. Seeing that face felt like an ice pick had been driven into his brain. He cried out, but refused to give up, tightening his grip.

A golden glow suffused Zero's soul, if only for an instant, and Asriel's hand fell away. The prince released Zero, collapsing at the impostor's feet. Maybe he'd done it…

Zero took a moment to regain their composure. They were sweating. “I, uh...” They seemed genuinely worried for a second. “I expected a lot more than _that._ This won't be any fun,” they whined. “I guess I'll just re…” They stopped. “Reset…” There was a long, awkward silence. Their brow furrowed in bewilderment. That look quickly turned to rage. “Wh… _Why can't I reset!?”_ They raised their foot over Asriel's head. _“How did you do this to me,_ _worm_ _!?”_

The voice rang through Asriel's head again, the same voice he'd heard at the opera. The same voice that had pierced his brain and twisted his stomach. _I'̨̧LL̡͜͡ K̶̸͜IL̡L Y̴͢O̸̕U͠͞ ̛҉͡FO͠҉͘R̛͘ ̷̢TAINT̨I̕NG MY͡ B̕EAU̴T̴IFUL̛ S͡OU͝L I͜͝'L̵͟L̶̛ KI̕͠L͠͏͟L̶͜ ̨Y͡Ơ̸͠Ư K҉I͢LL YO͟U ͢K̸I͘LL̛ Y̷O҉Ư͠͝ ͘K҉͝I̴L͏̸Ļ̴ ͡K̕͜I͡L͞͞L̡͝ ͜K͠҉̷I͏̛L̢͞L͞_

Before Zero could bring their foot down, Asgore's trident lanced out, its center prong stopping just short of the base of their neck. Zero, caught off-balance, turned around and stumbled backward, nearly tripping over Asriel's body. Toriel stood behind Asgore, her paws wreathed in crimson tongues of flame.

“Zero, was it? Is that what Asriel called you?” Asgore used his trident to push Zero's chin up, forcing them to stare into his hard eyes. “I never thought I'd have to kill a human again. But… I don't think I'll lose any sleep over this.”

Asriel struggled to turn his head upward, and could see Zero doing something he'd never seen them do: Cowering.

Zero backed away, caught between Asgore's trident and Toriel's fire magic, like a cornered rodent. “This is the point where Frisk would have shown you mercy. But to creatures like you…” Asgore raised the trident and brought it crashing down. _“_ _I DO NOT SHOW MERCY.”_

Asgore's trident sank uselessly into the dirt where Zero had been only an instant before, and the King suddenly became aware of a sharp, burning pain in his gut. As he fell to his knees and his vision faded, he saw Toriel, his wife, his Queen, shock written across her face as she, too, sank to the ground.

Undyne stared for a few seconds, wondering what she'd missed. How… How had Zero been able to deliver such a blow to not one, but two of the strongest monsters on Earth without either of them even noticing? Without even _her_ noticing?

“Captain! What happened?”

Papyrus' question brought her out of her reverie, and she rushed over to the royal family. “Papyrus! Get over here!” She struggled to turn Asgore over onto his back. “Help me make sure they're… still… _oh god…_ ” If either of them died, and she had done nothing…

Papyrus checked Toriel. “The Queen is hurt, but still alive.”

Undyne sighed with relief. Asgore was wounded as well, a deep stab wound in his stomach, but thankfully, it wasn't a mortal wound. Asriel was still, somehow, clinging to consciousness, and Papyrus helped him sit up. “Are Mom and Dad…?”

“The Royal Family is intact!” Papyrus exclaimed. “And it was all thanks to your ultimate technique! Your noble, brotherly embrace robbed that impostor of their will to fight!”

“We were lucky.” Undyne punched the ground with her fist. Her single eye bulged, inflamed with anger. “Papyrus. Asriel.” Her fangs ground together. “Go get help for the King and Queen.”

She stood up, tearing a lance of lightning out of the ground, and stormed off. “I'm going after Zero.”

Asriel crawled over to Toriel's body. “Mom…?”

“Do not fear, young Majesty,” Papyrus shouted as he took off running in the opposite direction as Undyne. “I shall return with a doctor immediately! You can count on me…!”

Asriel cradled his mother's head. He could feel the beat of her heart and the warmth of her breath, but those reassuring signs of life were still not enough to keep him from fearing the worst. His own tears fell onto her face as he measured the agonizing, slow passage of time in heartbeats, fearing that each beat could be the last.

“Please, Mom, wake up…”

He could hear Frisk making the same pleas in his head. _Please, Mom, wake up… I'm sorry…_

A vision flashed through his head, a stern-faced Toriel conjuring a wall of flame between herself and a small, thin human child. Was it Frisk? Or Zero? _I don't want to fight you, please just let me go home—_ There was a flash of fire on black— _Please get up, I didn't mean it, I want to stay with you now…_

_I'm so, so sorry…_

Asriel was snapped out of his vision by a bony hand on his shoulder. “Papyrus, Undyne told you to go get—” He turned around and saw not Papyrus, but…

“Hiya, kiddo,” Sans said.

“Uncle Sans, I don't think you're the type of doctor we need right now.”

“Relax, Tori and Gorey spent a long time in the oven.”

Asriel looked at him.

“They're tough cookies.”

Asriel kept looking at him.

Sans tugged at his collar. “Tough crowd.”

 –

Asriel could hear Undyne's heavy combat boots stomping down the hall, and sure enough, there she was, scowling and glaring with her one livid eye.

“No luck finding Zero, Undyne?”

“Nothing. I didn't think they could have gotten far, but I mean, they're in Frisk's body. That kid was always really, really good at running away.” The Captain of the Royal Guard sighed. “Why didn't I _notice_ anything? Frisk and I were besties! Zero had to have some sort of tell I didn't pick up on!” She grabbed Asriel's arm. “They had a tell, right? Tell me there was something they did that could've given them away. Something I could have noticed!” Her claws dug through his sleeves.

“Undyne, it's not your fault. Zero's disguise was—their disguise was really good. There was nothing you—”

“NGAAAAAH!” Undyne slammed her fists against the wall, leaving behind spiderweb cracks. She pounded on the wall again, and again. “These past two years…”

“Undyne, that's Toriel's room—”

 _“_ _THEY PLAYED US LIKE A DAMN FIDDLE!”_

“Undyne, please, control yourself!” Asriel grabbed her by the arm; she shoved him away and stormed off.

Doctor Alphys scurried along in Undyne's wake. “Undyne, please, con—” She passed by Asriel. “Um, Prince Asriel, hi! Your, uh, lordship? You already used that line, didn't you?”

Asriel nodded.

“It didn't work?”

“Nope.”

“Oh.” She ran past him. “Undyne, this isn't you! Let's just calm down and watch some anime together!”

Asriel looked at the two spiderweb cracks Undyne had left in the wall. Yikes. He poked his head in the room. Luckily, Toriel hadn't been woken up by the captain's rage.

It was pretty easy to trace Undyne's path through the castle grounds: All he had to do was look for the telltale signs of property damage she left in her wake. He'd never seen her this angry. He wondered if anyone else had… and lived.

Undyne's rampage had stopped in the royal courtyard, where she'd collapsed on one of the garden benches. Alphys sat next to her, patting her on the arm. She had been briefed on the whole affair as soon as she'd been called onto the scene.

“I'm a moron,” Undyne groaned.

“Don't beat yourself up. We were all morons.” Alphys told her. “But don't worry! It'll work out, Undyne. I've got a plan! We'll make an android double for Frisk! A-and then we'll have it get on a private plane. And then we'll set off a bomb when it's halfway across the Atlantic Ocean. We'll just, uh, say it was a terrorist attack and hold a big mock funeral for Frisk! We'll have to stock it with android pilots and stewardesses, too, I guess.”

“Uuuuuuggghhhhhhhhhh.” Undyne slumped over.

“I know it's tough to think about…”

Asriel stepped forward, stifled a yawn, and crouched down next to Undyne. There wasn't enough space on the bench to sit down. “Maybe we should hold off on the crazy ideas and focus on finding Zero?”

“How are we even gonna find Zero,” Undyne moaned. “If they can vanish into thin air, who's to say they're not on the other side of the planet already…”

“I have a feeling they'll turn up sooner or later.” Asriel yawned again.

“How long has it been since you slept, Your Majesty?” Alphys asked him.

Asriel checked his watch, then remembered he didn't wear one. His eye burned. “Twenty hours. It's okay, I'm used to it.”

Alphys stood up and let Asriel take her place. “This isn't how a prince is supposed to live,” she told him.

“How are princes supposed to live?” Asriel asked.

“I dunno. I kind of always imagined that when royalty weren't going around making important decisions, they were lying down being fed grapes by their servants or something.”

“You really like imagining Asgore lying down and being fed grapes, don't you? Maybe even shirtless…” Undyne teased her.

“I wouldn't… I'd n-never be unfaithful to…” Alphys sputtered, her face reddening. “Don't kinkshame me, Undyne!”

Undyne was laughing. “Sorry, Asriel. You shouldn't hear us talking about your dad like that!”

“What's kinkshaming?”

Undyne shook her head. “Oh, you sweet summer child. C'mon, let's get you to bed.”

“No, I'm not that tired, I'm good for another… five or six hours… Honest…” Asriel weakly protested as Undyne and Alphys walked him out of the courtyard.

“Let us grown-ups handle things for a while.”

“I'm not a kid! I'm almost fifteen!”

“Yes, I know, you're a teenager. Still a kid in my book.”

“Teenagers need at least nine hours of sleep per night,” Alphys told him.

“We'll come and get you in twelve, and if you haven't been asleep for at least three-quarters of those hours we won't let you help us kick Zero's butt,” Undyne added.

Asriel grumbled one last time, but relented.

 – 

The prince paced back and forth in his room. All the adults were probably coming up with a plan to deal with Zero right now, and here he was, stuck in his room, powerless once again. Helpless. Pathetic. _Asriel, go to bed._

“I'm not tired.”

 _You can hear me._ _You've been able to hear me_ _since Zero showed up_ _._

“Nothing a cup of coffee can't fix.”

_You hate coffee._

“Necessary evil.”

_Come on, we can have a sleepover._

“Frisk, Mom and Dad almost died. _I_ almost died. _We_ almost—Look, you get the idea, right!? Everyone almost died!”

 _There's nothing you can do about it_ _right_ _now._

“It's been like that for two years! Ever since _you_ brought me back! A—and just when I feel like maybe I'm strong and I can _do_ things, _this!_ _This_ happens!”

_I know how you feel._

“How could you know how I feel, dammit!?” Asriel flopped onto his bed in a manner completely unfitting of royalty. His blood was boiling. “It's not like you know what it's like to be—” He realized how stupid what he'd been about to say was and buried his face in his pillow in shame. “…A moron. I mean, _I'm_ a moron.”

 _There, there._ _We're both morons._

“I'm sorry I said and thought those nasty things to you.”

 _Apology accepted._ _But if it helps, don't think of this as a loss._ _Because of our ultimate technique, Mom and Dad are alive and Zero can't reset. It's not over, but we won this round, Asriel!_

Asriel un-smothered himself and adjusted his pillow. “Our ultimate technique. Man, I had a whole speech to go along with it, but I was so nervous about whether or not we'd all die… I forgot it.”

_And now it's lost to the ages._

“We'll have to come up with a better one for next time.”

 _Still up for the sleepover? We can p_ _aint our nails_ _and talk about boys._ _How does purple sound to you?_

“I think I need to take a walk, clear my head a bit.”

_Poor choice of words, my friend._

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that!”

Frisk laughed. _Do what you need to do, just d_ _on't do anything rash._

“I won't.” There was someone he needed to see.

Someone who needed to see him.

 –

 When Toriel opened her eyes, she found her son sitting behind her. He smiled faintly, hoping she wouldn't notice how bloodshot his eye was. “Hi, Mom.”

“Asriel…! You're alive!”

Asriel flung his arms around her. “Of course I'm alive, Mom! I'm just glad you and Dad are! You scared us so much…”

Toriel nuzzled his snout. “It'll take a lot more than that to keep an old goat like me down, little one.”

“I'm not little, Mom!” Asriel protested, giggling in spite of himself.

Toriel smiled. “Even if you turn out bigger than your father, Asriel, you'll always be my little one.” Asriel helped her into a sitting position. “How long has it been? What happened to Fris—er, Zero? Was that what they called themselves?”

“It's only twelve hours. Undyne went off looking for them as soon as she made sure you and Dad were okay. She didn't find anything.”

“Half a day…? And you've been awake this whole time, haven't you?”

Asriel rubbed his eye. “Yeah, but don't worry. I'm not tired at all,” he lied.

“You should at least take a nap. A boy like you needs a good nine, maybe even ten hours of sleep a night. As for me… I must be getting old if a little paper cut like that could put me down like this.”

“Doctor Alphys said it was more the shock than the injury itself.”

Toriel nodded. “…I don't supposed now would be the best time to tell me you're an evil doppelganger, too.”

“Don't worry, Mom. I'm the real deal.” Asriel didn't bother to ask what a “doppelganger” was—it had been one of his vocabulary words for the week. _It means “a look-alike or double of a living person”,_ Frisk told him as he got up to pour Toriel a glass of water.

“About, uh, _asriel_ as it gets,” Asriel added. Toriel burst out laughing.

“You said you have their soul, right? The real Frisk?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“So… are they still in there? Somewhere?” She took the glass from Asriel.

Asriel nodded. “I can only see them while I'm dreaming. And I don't always remember those, because, well, they're dreams. You know how those are. But the two of us are always together. And when I'm really tired, I can even hear them talking to me.”

“That's two children who came back to me, then.” Toriel glanced out the window. She never said much about the other children, the ones who fell into the Underground and never made it out, and Asriel never wanted to ask. “Can they hear me? Can I talk to them?”

Asriel nodded. Toriel took his paw in hers. “Frisk,” she said, looking right through him. “I'm sorry for never answering when you called. In my defense, an annoying dog ran off with my cell phone. But still ,you must have been so afraid and lonely…”

Frisk hesitated before answering. _I-_ _i_ _t's okay. Anyway, I only ever called her to let her know I was still fine._ Asriel repeated Frisk's words and Toriel closed her eyes contentedly. _Well, okay, maybe once or twice I called because I was scared and lonely, but…_

“Frisk was always good at forgiving people. No matter what they did. Even me… Even your father. And sometimes even I have a hard time doing that!” She laughed.

“Frisk was willing to bring me back—to give me a second chance with you and Dad… even if it meant they'd die.” Asriel felt a lump form in his throat. This was becoming a eulogy. He wondered how much of the ache in his heart was his, and how much was Frisk's. “And that was _after_ I stole everyone's souls and tried to kill them.”

“Frisk really was one of a kind. I know—they're still here, in a way, but...” Toriel sighed. “Zero was a human, weren't they? As cruel as they can be… how could any human wear their face and do something like this?”

“I don't know if they _are_ human. At least, not anymore.” Asriel squared his shoulders and tried to look tough. “Whatever their plans are, me and Undyne and Papyrus'll stop them.”

“'Undyne, Papyrus, and _I_ ',” Toriel corrected.

Asriel smiled his most roguish smile. “Guess I need remedial lessons.” He leaned down and kissed Toriel on the cheek. “I'm gonna help Undyne deal with Zero. They're here because of me, after all… Don't worry about me, okay?”

Toriel patted him on the head. “You can't stop a mom from worrying, Asriel.”

“I can try.” Asriel headed toward the door. “I love you, Mom.”

“Wait—“

Asriel paused.

“Zero—Before last night, they didn't… _hurt_ you, did they?”

“Only with words. They'd threaten me… but that was as far as they'd go.” Toriel sighed with relief. “But that night at the opera—”

Toriel gasped.

“I-I don't know if shooting my eye out was part of the plan, but they were going to have you and Dad killed. And… and… they were going to make me watch.”

Toriel staggered out of bed. “Oh, Asriel…”

“Mom, please, you need to stay—” But she had already crossed the room and embraced him, despite his protests. Toriel was sobbing. “I'm so sorry, my child… I've failed…”

Asriel wanted to reassure his mother, but what he blurted out next was not what he had in mind.

“Is this my punishment, Mom?” He could barely squeak the words out, but couldn't help himself. “F-for all the bad thing's I've done?”

“No! No, of course not!” Toriel looked him in the eye. “Asriel, everyone you've hurt has already forgiven you. It won't do you or anyone else any good if you dwell on these things. It's time you forgave yourself.” She hugged him one more time. “I love you, my child. So does the rest of your family. So do all your friends. And at least one of us will always be there when you need us, okay?”

“I love you too, Mom. Get some sleep.”

Toriel smiled. “Only if you do the same.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starring Undyne as Kazuhira "Kaz" Miller


	6. The Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, the monsters scramble to find Zero... before it's too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Gentlemen, you can't fight in here! This is the war room!"

There were three sharp knocks on Asriel's door. “Gimme a minute,” he called out, stumbling out of bed. According to the clock, he'd been asleep for ten hours. It was one in the afternoon.

He threw on a shirt and pants. “Wait,” he said to himself. “I can't go out looking like this.” He sniffed under his arm. He reeked. “Make that fifteen minutes!”

“Sure thing, Your Lordship!” It was Papyrus, of course, making good on Undyne's promise to him.

Asriel took a quick shower, shaking the water out of his fur, then set to wringing out his ears and combing his fur. There was another knock at the door. “Five more minutes!” He started brushing his teeth, then (after taking a few seconds to measure his horns—they'd grown another quarter-inch since last week!) caught his reflection in the mirror.

He could barely part his left eyelids from lack of use, but occasionally, before he put his eyepatch back on, he could see just a bit of his injured eye peeking out—the milky, unfocused iris and pupil barely distinguishable from the white sclera. Seeing it made even his vibrant amber eye seem duller in comparison. He liked having the eyepatch—it made him feel stronger, rugged, maybe even a little more adult… but seeing that reminder of why he had to wear it made him feel a little sick. He wondered if Undyne ever felt that way about _her_ eye. She'd never told him, or anyone else as far as he knew, how she'd lost hers.

Asriel could hear a high-pitched whine growing in his left ear. It came and went with irritating irregularity. His mother had told him it was tinnitus, the result of his eardrum getting blown out back at the opera. His ear had fared better than his eye, luckily, and the drum had mostly mended itself, but he wondered if the buzzing would ever go away for good. Another “gift” from Zero…

_̴͟Q̸̴͞L̸͜͜R͏̧̕͟ ҉̡V̧̕͏͝R͢͠Ơ̸͏Y̷̡͡ ͢͞͡G̢̡͏̨̨Ư̴̧P̷͟Q̶̸̛ ̴̶̛͡Q̷̕͡҉B̡̛̕͞H҉̴̶R̷̛͢͜͡ ̴͏H̵̷͟͝Y̴͏̡͠ ͠҉̵̶͞I̴͝U̢͢H̨̡͜͟R͟͜ ̶̸͞P҉̡҉͘͡D̨̕͠͞͝J̵̸O͟͝D̶̨͘͡͝L̷͝R̢͠E̵̶҉̴͡ ̸̛͝B̴Į͟Q̴̡̕͜J͟͞ ̨̡͠͝͠Q̵͟͞L̴͟R͏͜͝͝ ̶P̶̵͘F͟͠͝Y̨͘_

Asriel let out a short scream.

There was more knocking. “Do you need help, Young Lord? Have you gotten soap in your eye?”

“Hang on a sec!” He'd only ever heard Zero's thoughts when they were standing right next to him. Were they in his room right now? He quickly reapplied his eyepatch and scanned the bathroom. They weren't hiding in the toilet, or behind the shower curtain. The only thing lurking in the cupboard under the sink was a lonely bottle of drain de-clogging fluid.

Asriel cracked open the bathroom door and peeked through it. His room looked undisturbed; or at least, as disturbed as he'd left it. Not a single disheveled pillow and blanket was in place. He crept into the bedroom with a predator's stance. Had it just been a hallucination? He didn't smell any humans around, but…

The bedroom door burst open. “Never fear, Prince Asriel! I, Papyrus, am a pro at getting soap out of people's eyes!”

Asriel yelped, dashed back into the bathroom, and slammed the door shut. “Papyrus, I—”

“Is it acne, Prince Asriel? I know an excellent treatment for acne!”

“No, it's not—”

Papyrus gasped. “Did one of your horns break off? I know it must be embarrassing, but with some super glue—”

“Papyrus, I'm not _decent!”_

“Young Lord, low self-esteem does not befit you! Think of all you've accomplished…”

“I mean I'm not wearing anything!”

“…Do you need any help, Your Majesty?”

“No, Papyrus. I can dress myself. Can you wait for me outside, please? I'd really like to leave this bathroom.”

Asriel heard the sound of breaking glass and regretted his choice of words. He hastily got dressed and looked out the window, being careful not to prick himself on the jagged edges of glass. Papyrus waved his gloved hands from two stories down. “Don't worry about me, m'Lord! I'm fine!”

Asriel hurried downstairs and joined the skeleton outside, helping him to his feet. “Okay, Papyrus. I'm ready.”

“Excellent! But before we go, we need to collect my useless lump of a brother!”

“Sans? Where is he?”

Papyrus gestured to the center of the courtyard, where Sans was either sunbathing or napping or, most likely, both. His tweed jacket hung on the end of a lime green beach chair, and his pasty ribs gleamed in the morning sun. Papyrus marched over to him. “Sans! We need your help tracking down the human formerly known as Frisk!”

“Can't help. Sunbathing.” Sans snored. Papyrus grabbed him by the arm and pulled him up. “You can't make me do anything, Dean Pelton, I have tenure…” he mumbled as his brother dragged him along. “Okay, okay, just let me get my coat.” Sans grabbed his jacket and draped it over his shoulder blades. “Where are we headed?”

“The Royal Conference Room—everyone's there! Well, except…”

“Except for us!” Asriel interrupted. “So we'd better get going!”

Asriel and the skeletons headed down to the Royal Conference Room. The atmosphere in the castle was unusually tense: guards were stationed at every entrance and exit, their faces grim and stony. Royal Guards 01 and 02 gave Asriel their condolences as they passed him by.

 _“_ _They think the real Frisk is being tortured in an enemy work camp right now,”_ Papyrus whispered to him.

 _“_ _Enemy?_ _Who's our enemy? Are we at war now?”_

_“Not officially, no. King Asgore says we have to find and interrogate the spy so we can find out who to declare war on.”_

_“Yeah, but we're not_ actually _gonna go to war, are we?”_

_“Of course not! I know the King and Queen can solve all this diplomatically!”_

Asriel had his suspicions that this was a very bad idea… and if they didn't find Zero quickly, it would quickly become an even worse idea.

 –

Asriel found himself greeted by two massive hugs as soon as he walked into the conference room. “Mom, Dad, it's only been a few hours…”

“Hey, enjoy it while you can,” Sans said as he took a seat at the long oaken table. “Your folks can't hug you forever.”

Asriel scanned the conference room. Undyne was at the head of the table, wearing her full plate armor (minus the helmet) and tapping her foot impatiently. Alphys was at the foot of the table, behind a video projector. He took his seat next to Alphys. Toriel and Asgore sat beside him.

“Looks like everyone's here. Good.” Undyne conjured a spear and pounded it on the floor a few times. “Let's start with the most important item on the agenda: namely, the rat bastard who stole the body of our best friend and probably wants to take over the world.”

“There's no need for that kind of language in front of the boy, Undyne,” Toriel said.

Asriel leaned over to Alphys. _“Has_ _Undyne_ _been like this the whole time?”_ he whispered. Alphys nodded and adjusted her thick glasses. _“_ _It's scaring me,”_ she whispered back.

“Asriel, you need to tell us as much as you can about Zero—their goals, their motivations. We need to know what their endgame might be.”

“Now, if this is too hard for you to talk about…” Toriel started.

“It's fine.” Asriel stood up. “Zero's a hateful, vile creature. As far as I can tell, the two things they love more than anything else are killing people and hurting me. They think it's fun.” He sat back down. “So let's just try to think of something Zero could do that would accomplish maximum 'fun'.”

“Wow, that really sheds a new light on Zero. It's like I'm seeing them in a totally different way!”

“Undyne…” Asgore cautioned.

What more did they want from him? Zero's motivations weren't complex. They put lots of thought into very simple plans. “Oh, did you want more juicy details about Zero? Maybe you'd like to know about how they poisoned Dad and pretended it was an accident? Or how they took over my body and tried to murder their entire village before we both died?”

“Asriel…”

“What about the time they tortured Frisk by telling them all about how they killed all their friends in an alternate timeline so they could trick them into giving up their soul? Or here's a new one, how about the time they hired a goon to shoot my eye out? What does that tell you about Zero?”

Sans removed his feet from the table. “Did you just say 'alternate timeline'?”

“Zero spent the past two and a half years telling me that if I didn't do every little thing they asked me to do, they'd kill everyone I cared about! They made me jump out of a moving train once!”

Undyne gritted her teeth. “I jump out of moving trains _all the time_ , Asriel! It's great exercise!”

“It was a bullet train!”

“Undyne! Asriel!” Asgore slammed his fist on the table. Undyne and Asriel shut themselves up and looked at the floor. “This isn't helping. Asriel, you're still just a child, but Undyne—I don't know what you're trying to prove here, but there is no excuse for this kind of behavior.” He drew up to his full height. “Why don't I brew us some nice herbal tea?” He made for the exit and shuffled out. “Fill me in on anything I miss.”

“Asgore's right. That didn't help at all. Let's move on.” Undyne was still speaking harshly, but Asriel could tell she'd been humbled.

“Hey, h-hold on a minute.” Alphys tapped on the table with a scaly talon. “You said something about timelines, right?”

“Sans, isn't that your field?” Toriel asked.

“Nah, that was last year. I practice crop rotation now. It prevents the soil from running out of nutrients.” Toriel suppressed a laugh.

“Sans, do try to be useful,” Papyrus chided his younger(?) brother. Asriel still wasn't sure who exactly _was_ the older brother, and Frisk didn't have any insights either. Papyrus certainly seemed the more responsible of the two (albeit incredibly overzealous), but Sans had a postgraduate degree and a career, which certainly made him _seem_ like an adult.

“Okay, so, I used to do a lot of research about time stuff. I kinda quit after getting a bit too much hands-on experience. Asriel, are you _sure_ Frisk mentioned 'alternate timelines' to you? Not resets?”

Asriel thought for a moment. Most of his conversations with Frisk were in dreams he only half-remembered (if he remembered at all). “They talked a lot about resets. They could do it… Zero could do it… Even _I_ could do it back when I was a soulless abomination.” He didn't remember _all_ of the time he'd spent as Flowey—a fourteen-year-old's brain couldn't hold countless centuries of memories, after all—but he seemed to remember a certain short, improbably doughy skeleton causing him a great many headaches.

Toriel patted him on the shoulder. “Don't be so hard on yourself, my child.”

“That's _literally_ what I was, Mom. But they did talk about alternate timelines a few times. It might just be nothing. I mean, none of us is an expert in this stuff…”

“Except for me,” Sans said. “I am.”

“Sans, make your point.” Undyne was getting irritable again.

“Well, if I can just have a pen and paper…”

Alphys handed Sans her laptop. “I'll hook this up to the projector. Just open up MS Paint and, uh… nothing else. Don't look at _anythin_ g else.”

Sans drew a wobbly black line from the bottom of the screen to halfway up the screen. “Okay, this is a timeline, okay?” Everyone nodded. “Now let's say this dot right here…” He drew a dot on the end of the line, “…is the point where our pal Frisk came underground. Now, here's how this timeline works.” Sans drew a line off to the side, then traced it back to the middle, then drew another line in a different direction and traced it back. He did this several times. “Every time Frisk resets, the timeline truncates. The paths they back out of, or die on? Those stop. Now...” He erased the top half of the image.

“Are all your lectures this engrossing, Sans?” Undyne asked.

“Lectures? I just get my TA's to do those. So let's call this dot I drew Point Zero. The timeline where Frisk does whatever the voice in their head tells them to do, let's say that's Timeline Zero. Because listening to that voice, buddy, that's the _wrong_ decision.”

“How did you know about that?” Asriel asked. He never remembered telling anyone that Frisk had been hearing Zero's voice.

“Can we, just for this meeting, put a moratorium on using the number 'zero'? U-unless absolutely necessary?” Alphys asked.

Undyne rapped her spear on the floor. “All in favor of only using the word 'zero' to refer to the current thorn in our side, please say 'Aye'.”

There was a chorus of “aye”s.

“Looks like the 'aye's have it, Sans,” Toriel said.

“That's an old joke.”

“I'm an old lady.”

“Sans, how did you know Frisk was hearing Zero's voice in their head?” Toriel asked.

Sans shrugged. “They told me.”

“They _told_ you? When did they have a chance to do _that?”_

Sans shrugged again. “Before they reset.”

“How did you—”

“I remember how things were before every reset. Or, how things would have been. Well, kinda. It's kind of like waking up from a dream, and you know how _those_ are. Let me tell you, I was really relieved when I found out Frisk didn't reset all the way back to Point Z—”

Undyne pinned her spear to the table in front of Sans. The table cracked.

“Um, I mean, Point Alpha. Anyway, here's the deal.” Sans put a dot on one of the timeline branches he'd drawn. “Let's say this dot, right here, is where Frisk decides to reset.” He drew another dot further down the branch. “And this is where they reset _to_. And from there, Frisk can either do the exact same thing, re-tracing all their steps, or...” Sans drew a bunch of lines radiating from the point. “…They can make different decisions, create new timelines. This is all _one_ timeline. The timeline we all live in. And I remember all the little branches Frisk made. And let me tell you, the whole monster genocide thing? Didn't happen. In _any_ of them. I _think_ I'd remember if Frisk killed all of my friends and family…”

“I'm not so sure about that,” Undyne quipped.

“It'd be one hell of a nightmare,” Sans retorted.

 _“_ _I've never heard Sans talk this much,”_ Alphys whispered to Papyrus.

_“He's finally coming out of his shell. I'm so proud of him!”_

“So here's the deal with Zero: Either they made up all the wonderful bedtime stories they came up with for Frisk, or…” Sans started doodling on the screen. “String theory allows for the existence of 'multiverses', with each universe contained in a sort of 'membrane' parallel to the other universe. These universes may be incredibly similar to ours or incredibly different. And in the 'brane next door, who knows… Maybe that's Zero's hometown.” The screen was an incomprehensible wall of scribbles. “Am I making any sense here?”

There was a chorus of “no”s.

Sans shrugged. “Well, it's just a hypothesis. With some grant money and a couple years of research it could be a theory.”

Undyne was not amused. “We don't need hypotheses, we need information. Let's just table this for now. Alphys, bring up the video.”

Asgore re-entered the conference room, carrying a large tray with several teacups and a flower-print kettle. “It's chamomile tea—very relaxing.” He set a saucer and cup in front of each seat at the table, then offered one cup to Undyne. She drank the whole thing in one gulp. “So, what did I miss?”

“Nothing important,” Sans said.

“Alphys, start the video.” Alphys projected a video on the wall, and Undyne went through it frame by frame, jabbing vigorously with a spear. The video, Asriel noticed, was of his parents' fight with Zero.

“Look here.” She froze the video on Zero dodging a pillar of fire and pointed at the human. “Alphys, next frame.”

Undyne drew her spear across the image, stopping when it hit Zero's new position, a meter behind the flames. “This video footage runs at sixty frames per second. So, in one frame—one sixtieth of a second—this kid moved about one meter backwards. That's… How many miles per hour, Doctor?”

“Roughly, hmm… one hundred thirty four miles per hour,” Alphys answered. “The fastest human foot speed, for the record, is forty-four.”

“Guess you could say Zero's a real _speed demon_ ,” Sans piped up. Nobody laughed.

“Alphys, fast-forward to the end, right before Zero disappeared.”

 _“Uh…_ _Doctor Alphys, why was this being recorded?”_

_“I was, uh… erm… I was gonna dub anime music over your fight with Undyne and, uh…”_

_“Now,_ Doctor Alphys.” Undyne tapped the wall impatiently. Alphys dutifully fast-forwarded the video to right as Asgore was preparing to deliver his killing blow. “Pause. Now go forward, one frame at a time.”

Asgore's trident inched forward, and then Zero disappeared.

“This was where Zero disappeared. Now take a look at the King and Queen.” She tapped on the images of Toriel and Asgore. “As you can see, the stab wounds, which I presume were made by Zero, both appeared in the same frame, and Zero is nowhere to be found. Meaning, of course, that Zero must be moving many times faster than the speed we came up with earlier.”

Asgore whistled. “Wow. No wonder we couldn't hit them!”

“They can't be moving that fast,” Sans said.

“And why not?” Undyne asked.

“Zero to whatever in a microsecond? That's a ridiculous amount of acceleration. They'd be pulp.”

“A-and if they were, uh, moving that fast… They would've broken the sound barrier! We'd have heard a big sonic boom!” Alphys said.

“A big sonic boom… followed by a pile of human guts splattering against the ground.” Sans put his feet up on the table.

“What a ghastly way to go,” Toriel said.

“So they're not moving fast—What are they doing instead?”

Alphys spoke up. “They can teleport! It's just like how Shin Murakami was able to defeat the Samurai Archer in the _Samurai Archer NEO_ OVA…”

Sans shrugged. “Zero might not be able to reset, but it's possible they could still have some control over their personal timeline—altering their position and speed to match a point earlier in their history. On a very small scale, of course. It's not 'end-of-time-itself' deadly, but if used creatively, it would make for a very dangerous enemy.”

Undyne sighed. “Okay. Let's say Zero can still do weird time stuff. Let's go to the last point on our agenda. Where are they now?”

There was much aimless murmuring.

“…If I were possessing someone else's body and wanted to rub it in their face, I'd want to go to their home,” Asriel suggested. It was something he could see the them doing.

“So they'd be in Ebott,” Alphys said.

“They could be at my old home, in the ruins… That was home for them—if only for a night,” Toriel suggested.

“If that's your criteria, our old house in Snowdin could easily qualify!” Papyrus said. “Frisk and I went on our first date there!”

But Zero spent the past two years _here_ , in the castle the monsters had built right into the side of Mount Ebott—when they hadn't been traveling the world. Asriel thought back to the voice he'd heard less than an hour earlier. He'd only heard Zero's voice in his head when they'd been nearby. Had he really been hallucinating before, or had Zero never left? “What if…”

_I'M ͞G̸O͠I̕NG̴ T̷O҉ ͟T͠E̡AR ͢YO͟UR͢ H҉͟E̡͟͜A͡R̶̨T̶̶̛͟ ̶͘͘O͠U͞T̢҉̢ ͞A͠ND ̧͞͝T̢AĶE ͘B͘A̵C̨K WHAT ̵YO̕U ̧STOLE F̸RO̶M ̕M͡E, ̡ ͜͡A̧͡S͘RIE̛҉L̵͏̧̢͠_

Asriel shot up and slammed his fists on the table. _“THEY'RE HERE!”_ he screamed. His heart was pounding. Everyone was looking at him.

“Asriel? Are you okay…?”

“I heard their thoughts, I can only do that when they're close by, _they're still here, THEY CAN'T BE ANYWHERE ELSE—”_

Asgore took hold of Asriel. _“Breathe,_ Asriel. Calm down…”

Asriel took deep, regular breaths, and could gradually feel his mind clearing. He sat down. “Undyne, there's got to be someplace you missed…”

Alphys cringed.

“Someplace you didn't check…”

Alphys fidgeted with her claws.

“Some part of this castle only Frisk could access…”

Alphys started sweating. “There, uh, um… kinda… is.”

Undyne's eye narrowed. _“What?”_

“R-remember the Peace Roller Incident?”

Toriel clutched her head. “What a nightmare that was…”

“…But that was just Mettaton in a costume, right?” Asgore asked. “We were bluffing the whole time.”

“I, uh… Well, I f-figured, if someone called our bluff, we'd be caught with our pants down, right?”

Undyne blanched. “Alphys, you didn't…”

“I-it's not finished yet! It can't even deliver a nuclear payload!” Alphys' eyes darted back and forth. “A-and anyway, I knew it was a really, _really_ d-dangerous weapon… so I gave sole access permissions to—to the only person who was innocent and pure enough to use it responsibly…”

“Frisk.”

Alphys nodded. “Uh-huh.”

Undyne smacked her face and groaned. “You… gave Zero sole authority over a literal… _nuclear… DOOMSDAY MACHINE, ALPHYS!?”_

“Come to think of it,” Asgore said, “Frisk—er, Zero was the one who suggested we use a fake nuclear strategic self-defense system to intimidate rival nations in the first place…”

 _“_ _ALPHYS!”_ Undyne reached across the table, grabbing the poor scientist by the shoulders and shaking her. _“WHERE IS THE PEACE ROLLER?”_

“I-i-it-it's in my lab, in Hangar 18, b-but—Guys, the warhead launcher isn't even in the p-p-pre-prototype stage, the Magitek Fusion Drive operates at ten percent c-capacity, and don't even get me started on the AMBAC system or the flight pack… It has no large-scale offensive capabilities, its mobility is a joke…”

“Undyne, give Alphys some breathing room, please.” Toriel waved her away. “Doctor Alphys… where did you get the money for such a project? I _certainly_ didn't approve of this in the quarterly budget.”

“I-i-it was a… a b-black ops project… Zero and I took the money they'd invested in their S&P 500 mutual fund, uh… hit it big in Vegas (through a proxy, of course! I didn't let them gamble! They're way too young for that!) and dumped it all into untraceable cryptocurrency… We had almost a million dollars allocated to this project…”

Asgore drew to his full height. He towered over Alphys. “Doctor Alphys. In any other nation, you would be executed for war crimes. At the very least, this would be grounds for a court-martial. But that will have to wait for now.” He clenched his fists. “I do not care how complete the Peace Roller is. I want it destroyed and the project abandoned immediately.”

Alphys nodded profusely. “O-of course! Immediately! It was a stupid idea anway!” She rifled through the pockets of her labcoat. “The key card for Hangar 18 is somewhere in here, I know…”

“Do we need anything special to disable the Peace Roller?” Undyne asked.

Alphys pulled a laminated card out of her pocket and laid it on the table. “I, uh, didn't finish the armor yet! One hit to the cockpit will completely disable it! And, uh, kill the pilot.”

Undyne swiped the keycard. “Thanks.” She threw the door open and stormed out.

Asriel stood back up. “I'm going too.”

Toriel grabbed him by the arm. “Asriel, you can't keep putting yourself in danger like this.”

“Zero is here because of me. And so is the Peace Roller. I _have_ to do this.” Asriel pushed his mother aside and walked out after Undyne.

“Papyrus, please escort Doctor Alphys to a holding cell pending her trial.”

“King Asgore, please...” Alphys wailed.

“Don't despair, Doctor!” Papyrus led her out of the conference room. “I'm sure the King will give you a lenient sentence. And as long as you're in prison, I'll cook dinner for you every day!”

Toriel and Asgore looked around the room. Sans had mysteriously vanished at some point during the meeting, as he was wont to do.

“…So, honey,” Asgore said, clearing his throat. “How many weeks are we grounding Asriel for?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "It's not a weak point--I like to think of it as more of a character flaw. People and weapons just aren't complete without a character flaw, don't you think?"


	7. Zero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, a bad time is had. Content warning for graphic and brutal violence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am adding a "graphic depictions of violence" tag to the work due to the fighting in this chapter, but am unsure about whether or not the rating of the work in general should change as well, and would appreciate any feedback in that regard.

Newest Home was a work to rival the greatest wonders of the world, a castle built right off of a sheer cliff face. A network of diagonal stone columns sprouted from the base of the cliff, propping up the outermost edges of the castle, while a network of cable cars linked the castle to the town of Grasslands (Asgore had named it) in the foothills of Mount Ebott. Flanking the castle were homes for hundreds of monsters terraced into the rock. Millions of tons of earth and stone had been moved, destroyed, and reshaped to create it. It was a precarious, fragile structure. And nestled between the crook of castle and cliff, recessed into the rock of the mountain, were the deepest and most secret layers of the Royal Scientist's laboratory.

Undyne punched in the buttons for the freight elevator. Her metal boots clanked on the grated floor as the car shuddered to life and began to move on its tracks. _How could this have happened?_ She paced back and forth as the elevator continued its descent. The original Peace Roller incident had been nothing but a bluff, an act to convince the rest of the world that their tiny kingdom (the total monster population was less than some major human _cities_ ) could not simply be taken advantage of, that they could defend themselves and even retaliate if anyone tried to walk over them. While not exactly a harmless prank, it had been just that—a _prank._

Actually _having_ a nuclear-capable weapon at their disposal, though: that was different. That made them a _rogue state._ There could be another _war_ over this. And this time, humanity wouldn't stop at exiling them.

It had all been a very, very bad idea from the start.

 _The King, the Queen, and even me… How could we have let this happen?_ Why hadn't any of them _seen_ what Zero had been convincing them to do? Undyne kicked the wall as the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. _How could_ _Zero_ _have talked Alphys into doing something like this for real?_ Undyne snarled to herself, knowing that deep down, she was angrier at herself than she was at anyone else, including her girlfriend. True, they all should have noticed what was wrong, but she blamed herself most of all. Undyne stomped out of the elevator. The door to Hangar 18 was just ahead, wide and tall enough to accommodate a truck.

The elevator behind her shuddered and began to ascend. Was she being followed? Undyne readied a spear and swiped Alphys' key card across the access panel. The door slid open and she walked through.

Hangar 18 was a wide, long space, with a high vaulted ceiling and a smooth concrete floor. The steel walls were braced with naked I-beams. At the far end of the hangar was a heavy blast door which took up the entire wall. A few inactive construction robots slumped over in the corners, thick cables running from their engines to the power outlets in the walls. Several of the robots had been cannibalized for parts. Undyne could tell from the crumpled posters and oil-stained wall scrolls hanging from the walls that Alphys had spent a lot of time working in here. She could see from the half-finished vehicle in the far right corner of the hangar that Alphys had spent a _lot_ of time working here.

The original Peace Roller had been Mettaton (in his default "giant calculator" body), with a mock railgun bolted onto his back. He'd done a big, almost-literal song and dance routine, greatly embellished his human-killing capabilities as a "fail-deadly AI controlled nuclear-equipped strategic self-defense system"… but Mettaton's human-killing hardware and software had long been removed, and had never really been that impressive anyway. Alphys had a brilliant and passionate mind in many fields of science, from robotics to biology to metaphysics, but when it came to developing tools of violence, her heart just wasn't in it. Maybe that was why she'd left Peace Roller Mk. II unfinished.

The Peace Roller had a sleek, angular cockpit, like a fighter jet's, and was flanked by two half-finished turbines. Four digitigrade legs, ending in thick tank treads, protruded from the vehicle's slim fuselage, and a pair of slim arms with thick, mantis-like graspers were hooked around the nose. The deep red armor plating on the Peace Roller's nose was in patches, exposing the skeletal lattice beneath. The canopy was a beige tarp stretched taut over a frame. It fluttered gently under the air vents in the ceiling.

Undyne was halfway between disappointed and relieved that the thing didn't have a giant sword.

She looked around the hangar. It was deserted. Was Zero hiding in the cockpit? She crept toward the Peace Roller, drawing her arm back to throw her spear through the canopy.

“Hello, Undyne.”

The voice was coming from behind her! Undyne spun around and thrust her spear toward the source of the voice. Its blade stopped inches away from Zero's chest.

Zero smiled, drawing a simple kitchen knife from their belt. Keeping a knife in their belt? They were lucky they hadn't lacerated themselves to death just from walking around already. “You know, I've actually been looking forward to this. You see…”

Undyne snarled and thrust her spear forward. Zero ducked under it, lunged forward, and drove their fist into Undyne's stomach. She wheezed and stumbled backward. Even through her armor, it _hurt_ in precisely the way that a punch from a not-quite-fifteen human child _shouldn't._ Was this the true power of a human's "killing intent"?

“…Back in my timeline, _Undyne the Undying…_ you were the only one who didn't go down with one hit.”

Zero raised the knife above their head. Undyne lashed out with her leg, planting her boot squarely on Zero's chest and sending them flying backwards. The knife clattered to the floor.

“Don't keep your knives just tucked into your belt. At least get a sheath for them.” Zero scampered to their feet, avoiding the forest of lightning spears forcing their way up from the floor. “It's irresponsible. One wrong move and you could nick a major artery—bleed out to death in a matter of minutes,” she hissed through gritted teeth as Zero continued to dance around her attacks. Undyne had Zero on the run.

But “on the run” wasn't good enough.

Undyne wanted Zero dead. And, as much as she wanted to fight them _mano-a-mano_ and wring the life from their body with her own claws in a fair, just, honorable fight, she wanted them _decisively_ dead.

And that meant attacks that couldn't be dodged.

The air was thick with arcs of lightning, Undyne commanding her spears with the frenzy of a mad conductor. Occasionally, Undyne could see an expressionless face framed between two or more spears before it vanished. She was throwing everything she had at the kid, but their ability to avoid her attacks could only have been supernatural. Sans had been right—Zero must still have some control over the flow of time. But all she needed to do was hit them _once,_ and that "green" ability she'd always used to force would-be cowards to stand their ground and face her would ensnare them. They'd be hers…

Zero appeared in front of her. Startled, Undyne backed into the Peace Roller and swung her spear at their head. Zero vanished.

The barrage continued. Zero was untouchable. What was their ability? Was it minor resets? Teleportation?

If Undyne could use _her_ ability, neither would save them.

Undyne heard the faint _ping_ in her head that let her know her “green” ability had ensnared Zero, and with a sharp wave of a spear, brought her assault to a halting stop. A cluster of airborne spears buried themselves in the wall and faded away as the hangar fell silent, its concrete floor scored and gouged. Zero stood in the middle of the room, motionless, their brow soaked with sweat. A faint green aura surrounded their body.

Undyne inched forward cautiously, one last spear in her scaly hands. Zero didn't move an inch. “I've got you now, Zero…” she panted. “No more running away…” She closed the distance between the two of them, holding her spear outward. “Remember the first time we fought? When I gave you one of my own spears, just so you could have a sporting chance against me? What I _really_ should have done…” she drew the spear back, “was give it to you… like _this!”_ She thrust forward, aiming for Zero's heart.

 – 

Asriel realized as soon as he reached the hangar that he'd forgotten to ask Alphys if she had an extra key card. He stubbed his toe on the door kicking it in frustration. He pressed his ear to the door. He couldn't hear anything through it, which was only to be expected. What if Undyne needed his help in there?

He checked the access panel. There was a keypad set into it. Asriel decided it wouldn't hurt to guess. He keyed in 1-2-3-4, just in case.

A blocky message ran across the greenish screen. WRONG EMERGENCY CODE—PLEASE ENTER FULL 20-DIGIT SEQUENCE. A panel beside the access panel slid open, revealing a full keyboard. EMERGENCY CODE MUST CONTAIN AT LEAST 2 NUMBERS, LETTERS, AND SPECIAL CHARACTERS AND IS CASE-SENSITIVE. PASSWORD HINT: LOOK ON THE BACK OF THE CD CASE.

Asriel really regretted not stopping by to ask Alphys if she had a spare key card.

 –

Zero grabbed the shaft with their hands, stopping the blade just as it poked through their striped sweater, and jerked the spear away. There was the smallest drop of blood on the spear's angled tip—blood and…  _something else_ , a globule of some thick, black substance. Undyne stumbled forward, still carried by her momentum, while Zero's feet stayed glued to the floor. Zero twisted the spear out of her hands as Undyne hit the concrete and drove the spear downward, the blade slipping into the gap between her shoulder armor and chest plate and puncturing her flesh, digging into the concrete and pinning her to the floor. Undyne howled in pain.

“I'm sorry, Undyne. I simply can't accept such a generous gift.” Zero laughed as they yanked the spear out of the floor and plunged it into Undyne's other shoulder. “Do you mind if I give it back?”

Undyne screamed through clenched teeth. Good guys got shot and stabbed through their shoulders all the time in action movies, and it never seemed to hurt this much!

“Oh, but if you insist…” They pulled the spear out again. “But it's so finely crafted…”

Undyne rolled over and kicked Zero. Her boot connected with Zero's knee, and since their feet were still frozen to the floor, their knee had nowhere to go but backwards. There was a sickening, organic crunch masked by an agonized screech as Zero's kneecap completely shattered and their left leg bent in the wrong direction. Their face turned white, their mouth gaping, their scarlet eyes wide.

Undyne struggled to pull herself to her feet, barely able to command her arms to move. She rolled into a sitting position and carefully stood up, ignoring the fire running through her nerves. Zero, still under the influence of Undyne's soul and unable even to fall over, whimpered in pain. Tears streamed down their cheeks.

“Why, Undyne?” he moaned. “How could you do this to me? How could you do this to _Frisk!?”_

Undyne staggered toward Zero. “I knew Frisk,” she spat. “You're not them.”

“Their mind… it's still in here,” Zero raised a trembling finger to their head and tapped on their temple. “Within me… They can see everything I see… Feel everything I _feel…”_

Undyne stumbled as a pit formed in her stomach. They couldn't be telling the truth… “That's impossible…”

“It hurts _so bad,_ Undyne.” Zero sniffled. “And Frisk can feel all of it, in here with me!”

“You're lying!”

“It hurts worst than any of the other times you killed them, Undyne!” Sweat and tears sparkled on Zero's gaunt face. “Do you know how many times that was, Undyne? How many times they had to load their last save point before they 'befriended' you? Twelve times, Undyne! You murdered them twelve times! I know!” Their ugly, half-sobbing laugh-cries twisted a knot in the captain's stomach. “I know, Undyne! _I was there!”_

“Shut up, you friend-stealing little shit!” Undyne stepped toward Zero on unsteady feet, reared back, and cracked her iron-hard forehead into Zero's. Fresh blood trickled down the bridge of Zero's nose. Blood and… more black stuff? Undyne didn't know what to make of it as she staggered back up. Was Zero… _human_ anymore? Physically?

“Would you like to hear what they have to say right now? I can put 'em on speaker for you… But you're not gonna like it…”

“Stop it…”

The voice coming from Zero's mouth turned soft and faint. Its owner was unmistakable. Frisk had always been a very quiet and soft-spoken child; when Zero had been posing as them, they'd been too. “Undyne…”

_No…_

“Undyne, it's okay. I understand. And I don't blame you for anything…”

Of course. Frisk never did.

“But…”

_It's not real… It's a trick…_

“It always hurt so much when we fought. It still really, really hurts…”

She looked at their agony-ridden face and still saw the same child she'd tried to kill (who, in other aborted timelines, apparently, she'd succeeded in killing). The same child she'd given cooking lessons, the same child who'd barely whiffed her when she told them to hit her as hard as they could.

The same child who'd brought hope to everyone who'd called that underground prison a home.

“Undyne, let me go… Zero's too hurt to run away, you can take us to Alphys and maybe… Maybe she can find some way to put me in control again…”

“Give it up, Zero.”

Zero scowled.

“Asriel told us what happened to Frisk when you took over their body.” Undyne toppled Zero over. Their feet came unstuck from the floor. “You're a good actor, but you'll never be able to fool any of us. Ever. Again.”

Zero doubled over and clutched their knee, their chest heaving, but no sound came out of their mouth. They were finished—they'd never walk again, not after what Undyne had put them through.

“I know it hurts. And let me tell you, punk—you deserve all of it and more.”

Zero glared at her. Undyne had never seen so much hate in a pair of eyes, and seeing it coming from someone she'd seen as a friend—it nearly hurt just as much as the hits Zero had gotten in.

 – 

Asriel had started using his partisan to cut open the door. When that proved too slow, he'd conjured up a few more to get the job done faster. The roiling flames slowly cut through the door, sending droplets of white-orange molten metal to the floor. Controlling _one_ blade, let alone several, telepathically was considerably more exerting than using one by hand, and cutting through solid steel was not Asriel's idea of a fun time. But Zero was behind that door, and Undyne couldn't handle them alone.

 _This is gonna be a really cool entrance,_ Asriel thought to himself. _The door is gonna be all glowing and smoking, and I'm gonna walk through, and all these weapons will be surrounding me, and I'll have some one-liner like, “Time to turn up the heat”, or “Let's find out what happens when you subtract one from Zero”, or… “Hold on while I pull some of these irons out of the fire”…_

The blades finished tracing their rectangle in the door. Asriel braced his foot against the door and pushed. The metal sheet he'd cut out resisted at first, but slowly sank against his weight and fell forward, leaving behind a perfectly rectangular hole. Undyne's voice wafted through.

_“I know it hurts. And let me tell you, punk—you deserve all of it and more.”_

Asriel stepped forward, flanked by seven flaming blades. “It's time to subtract these irons from the fire, Zero!” His voice cracked at the end. He wanted to die.

Zero was on the floor, cradling a leg that was bent in a way human legs were not meant to bend. Undyne stood over them, her arms hanging limp at her sides. “Asriel!” She grinned when she saw him. “Nice entrance!”

“R-really?”

“I think you overthought your one-liner a bit, but other than that… Cool! I'd give you a thumb's up, but…” She tried to shrug and winced.

“What did you do to their knee?” Asriel felt sick just looking at it.

“Pretty much the same thing they did to my shoulders, more or less.”

Asriel took a few halting steps toward Zero and took a deep breath. He'd come down here expecting a fight… but there was nobody left to fight. He knelt down beside Zero. Their face was covered in tears. He'd only ever seen them like this—so miserable, so weak—once before. Although long ago, when they'd poisoned themselves, they'd been too weak to even cry.

It was hard to willingly bring himself so close to Zero. But he had to do it. For Frisk, for the person who'd given him their soul, who'd only ever given water and comfort to their enemies…

If he didn't do this, he knew he'd never be able to face Frisk again. “It's over, Zero. You can't fight like this.” He patted Zero on the back. “It's time to give up.”

“Asriel, get away from them. They're still dangerous...”

Zero's face softened. “Asriel… You're not here to kill me?”

Seeing Zero's pain didn't make Asriel feel satisfied. It just reminded him of how he'd helped wash the vomit from Zero's hair and begged them time and time again to stop killing themselves as their body had rotted away from the inside… and how devastated he'd been when Zero had breathed their last breath.

So devastated, he'd forgotten one of his promises to them.

Asriel didn't want to kill them. He'd never wanted to kill them. He just wanted to make sure they couldn't keep hurting people—to make sure that no one would suffer the way he had.

Asriel shook his head as he helped Zero onto their good leg. “I came down here to stop you, not to kill you.”

“Softie…”

“I'm not like you, Zero. I'm—I'm better than you.” Asriel could feel cold sweat soaking through Zero's clothes. A human, any normal human, would be in shock from their injuries. “I'm bringing you in. You're gonna have a trial, you're gonna answer for all the pain you've caused… And I'll make sure you spend the rest of your life in a cell… where you can never hurt anyone again.”

“You're… pathetic, Asriel.”

“Asriel.” Undyne had never sounded sterner. “I know you don't have to take orders from me, but… You're not bringing that… _thing_ up there alive. They're not a human or a monster…”

Asriel trudged onward, carrying most of Zero's weight for them. “You know this is how Frisk would have done things.”

Zero coughed. “Asriel, you…” They sniffled, their eyes glittering with fresh tears they tried in vain to choke back. “You…”

_YOU ̢IDI̢OT_

Asriel found he couldn't take another step as his blood ran cold, a familiar voice echoing through his head.

“You've forgotten…”

_I͢N ̵T̷H̵I̷S WORL̸D̡͟_

Undyne lunged toward them with the last vestiges of her strength, but could only manage a few steps. Her momentum could only carry her so far. “Asriel, you fool, _get away from them!”_

_IT͜'͢͞S͢ ͏҉͏KĮL͘͘L_

Asriel felt something cold and sharp dig into his side.

_O̸̧͘R̛͞ B̸͡E ̵K͠I̵̛͠L̶L̸͘҉E̷̶͟D͢͢͟_

Asriel's legs gave out and he hit the floor. Zero dug the knife in deeper and gave the handle a slow twist, leaning their good knee into his back. Asriel screamed until the air left his lungs.

 _“Brother…_ _”_ Zero hissed into his ear. A cacophony of violent thoughts pounded in Asriel's head, mixing with the mosquito whine in his left ear. _“_ _It's really… such… a shame…”_ They pulled the knife out. Asriel could feel hot blood soak through his shirt. _“I never wanted to kill you…”_ Zero flipped Asriel onto his back and held the knife to his throat. _“Even the other day… I was just going to put the fear of God back into you._ _So we could keep playing…_ _”_ The frenzied, furious look in Zero's eyes was all Asriel could see as the edges of his vision clouded over with red haze. He tried desperately to breathe.

 _“_ _But now…”_ Zero dug their knee into Asriel's stomach. _“The game is over. I don't care about you anymore, Asriel. You're nothing to me…”_ The knife drew a thin line on Asriel's neck. He could hardly hear Zero's words over the maelstrom in his head. The throbbing pain, the pounding voice… _“And I'm going to turn you into nothing… one… little… cut… at a time…”_

 – 

_“Zero…” Asriel could barely choke the words out. “Why… Why are you doing this to yourself…?”_

_Zero retched into the bucket again. Nothing but bile came out. Their fingers, cold and skeletal, clutched Asriel's paws, worming their way through his fur. “B… because… I—” More bile dripped from their mouth as their stomach heaved. “Because… if I do this…” They choked. “Because…”_

_“Zero, stop… it's not too late…”_

_“I_ _care about_ _you, Asriel. You're my best friend… and I want you to be happy…”_

I care about you, Asriel.

 _Asriel remembered th_ _ose_ _words when Zero's heart stopped beating. He remembered them when he cradled their lifeless, emaciated body, when_ _he took their soul, when he felt the air of the surface on his face for the first time… when his body started to move against his will, and_ _when_ _hundreds of humans looked at him with a mixture of fear and hatred._

I care about you, Asriel.

_He remembered those words when he wrestled control of his own body away from Zero, when fire from his hands traced a circle in the sky. He remembered those words when he collapsed onto a bed of flowers and watched as his own body slowly turned to dust._

I care about you, Asriel.

_It was the closest they'd ever come to telling him, out loud, that they loved him._

– 

“Zero…” Asriel could feel air flooding into his lungs. His head was clearing up—he could see and hear clearly again. No, clearer than ever before. The world felt new, and he was laughing. “Zero, do you know what's nothing?” His outstretched hand was clenched around Zero's throat. _“Zero!_ That's what _zero_ is! That's all it is! That's all _you_ are!”

Zero wormed their fingers into Asriel's grip, but his claws only clenched tighter. Trickles of blood oozed from tiny puncture wounds on their neck. “You can talk about 'kill or be killed' all you like, Zero…” Asriel's body didn't hurt anymore. He didn't even think his wound was bleeding anymore. He felt stronger than he'd ever been.

 _“But who knows more about the 'ru͢les ͞o͢f ͟naturę'̨…”_ Asriel's face broke out in a wicked grin as thin, thorn-covered vines snaked their way around his arm and twisted themselves around Zero's body, raising them into the air above Asriel . _“…t̴h͟an̕ ̢M̷Ę!?”_

Asriel could feel thorns dig into his flesh, drawing pinpricks of blood and blossoming pink and red blotches in his fur, but he didn't care. The tendrils wrapped around Zero's body whiled through the air, flinging them into the walls again, and again, and again, and again. Zero flailed with their knife, cutting themselves free and dumping themselves gracelessly onto the concrete, and threw the knife at Asriel. There was a flash of sickly green, and the knife hung in midair, suspended by a web of vines sprouted from Asriel's claws. He threw the knife across the room and walked toward Zero. The fear in their eyes—it was funny! It was hilarious!

Asriel chuckled. “How͞ ̛do҉es it̢ fe͡e͏l̴, Z̸er҉o͢?”

He felt himself walk in slow, confident strides as the vines trailing from his fingers twisted around Zero's uninjured leg. “Na̕tur̸e ͜abh͝or͠s ͘a̵symme̛t͝r̶y̸,͜ Z͞ero…͟” The sclera of his eye had turned jet-black, his golden iris as red as Zero's. “Wh̡y̕ ͞don̷'͞t ̛I 'cor̡r̢ec͡t'̶ t̡h̸at for ̡yơu̴…̵?͢”

Zero screamed as their other knee snapped forward. To Asriel, it was the sweetest music he'd ever heard.

_Asriel!_

He felt so good.

_Asriel!_

He felt _so good!_

_Asriel!_

Asriel stood over Zero. A wreath of many-colored flames shrouded his paws, snaking down the vines toward Zero's face, creeping toward their left eye…

_ASRIEL!_

“It'̶s ͢o͠n͝ly fa̴i҉r,͝ right҉ Z͡ero̢? ̨I ͏ca͜n͟'̶t let yo̵u ru͝n̨ ̢ar̨o̵u̴n̕d ̶w͞it͞h͝ ͡two ͞e̷y̴e̸s̨… ͏w̡he҉n͞ y̷ou ̷on̸ly l̴e̛ft͢ ̶m̡e ҉w͘i͢th on҉e̴.”

_ASRIEL, STOP!_

Not for Frisk. Not for Toriel or Asgore. Not for Undyne. Just for him.

_ASRIEL, STOP IT!_

All for revenge.

_Please…_

He felt so, so good.

_Please…!_

He felt _so, so afraid._

 – 

You idiot.

 _Asriel knelt over Zero _—_ Chara _—_ his_ sibling's _body, holding their hand even as blades and bullets pierced his skin. As strong as he was with the human's soul, he was far from invulnerable. And the hatred and fear of the humans easily cut through whatever defenses he could build around himself. This was the "killing intent" he'd been told about when his parents had taught him about humans.  
_

_“It killed them!” a villager shouted. “That monster murdered that poor child!”_

_Chara screamed inside his head as the body they had taken control over continued to resist their will._

How long will it take you, Asriel? How long until you learn the laws of this world?

 _Blood spattered across the soil, across the flowers Chara had always spoken so fondly of. His blood._ Their _blood._

You and your bleeding heart, Azzy. You're going to get us _both_ killed.

_Asriel's wings unfurled, carrying him into the sky. The smell of burnt ozone followed him all the way home. When he finally landed, he could see faint white particles drifting from his paws as his body crumbled away from the outside in._

You told me everyone in your town hated you, Chara. That they were all evil people who deserved to die. But _… Asriel watched his right paw crumble into dust and blow away in the wind, and tried very, very hard not to be afraid. Of course, he'd started to cry._ If they were all bad… if they really hated you… why would they have gone so far to avenge you?

_With the last of his strength, Asriel, prince of all monsters, smiled._

 – 

Smoke hung in the air as wilted, browning vines fell to the floor, frozen into fragile spirals. Asriel stumbled backward, the breath once again taken from his lungs. His insides felt like fire and ice. Zero looked at him with both eyes and sneered from behind a layer of blood and ichor.

“That's _it?”_

Asriel's mouth opened, but he couldn't speak. He could only look on in dumbfounded horror as Zero reached to their knees and, one by one, snapped them back into their right positions. A few blots of that strange black ichor dripped from the bottoms of Zero's pants as they stood up on wavering legs. Asriel's eye followed Zero's as they drew to their full height and looked down at him. “Was it fun?” they asked.

Zero didn't wait for Asriel's response before hobbling off toward the Peace Roller. “I know you did it for _them…_ but I want you to ask Frisk, the next time you have a chance, which lives have ended because of them.”

They tore the canvas off of the cockpit and climbed into the Peace Roller. After a few seconds of fiddling, the weapon's treads spun to life and its legs made contact with the battered floor. Chips of concrete flew into the air. The Peace Roller lumbered forward with an awkward gait, unfurling its mantid arms and aiming them at the hangar bay door. Flames barely-visible beneath the half-finished engine cowlings gutted and flickered to life, and a deafening roar filled the room as the Peace Roller became airborne.

_Peace Roller shouldn't be flight-capable yet _…__

"When I'm through with you," Zero shouted over the din, "you'll wish you'd finished what your would-be  _sensei_ started here!"

The Peace Roller's grasper claws opened up, orange and blue lights pulsing rhythmically from inside. Flickering bolts of energy lanced out, blowing open the door as the Peace Roller accelerated forward. A howling, cold wind filled the hangar.

_Zero…_

Coming to his senses at last, Asriel ran toward the Peace Roller. With the last of his strength, he created one more flaming partisan and flung it at Zero. He missed. The blade buried itself in the joint where the left engine met the fuselage and exploded, unmooring the engine in a ball of red-orange fire and sending it crashing to the floor. Black smoke poured out of the ruined engine and swirled out of the hangar.

“Zero!”

The Peace Roller wavered, unbalanced, and dipped over the edge of the hangar. Asriel peered over the edge, hoping to see its smoking wreckage at the base of the cliff. Instead, he saw the weapon trace wide, inelegant curves through the air, leaving a jet-black trail of smoke hanging in the air like a scar as it vanished from sight. Far off, in the grassy plains east of the mountain, a plume of orange fire erupted as the Peace Roller collided with the ground, coughing up a stream of smoke.

Zero _ _—__ Chara _ _—__ Frisk's body _ _—__ Gone.

 _“ZEROOOOOO!”_ he screamed, the name tearing itself through his throat in spite of the ball of tears lodged in it. His legs gave out and he fell to his knees. A twisted shard of metal from the ruined blast door cut through his pants, its still-glowing hot edge instantly cauterizing the wound. He could barely even feel it, let alone smell the burning. Asriel wavered over the edge, the bitter wind ruffling his fur. He didn't even have the energy to stand up or walk away. The ground loomed beneath him, hundreds of feet away. He didn't want to fall. He didn't want to die like _ _—__ _“CHARAAAAAAAAA!!!”_

A fishy scent filled his nostrils as Undyne pulled him to his feet, dragging him away from the edge with her fangs clamped over the collar of his ragged, worn-out shirt. She said something through a mouthful of dirty fabric. Asriel was sure it was something meant to make him feel better. “They were still family to me,” he mumbled, barely aware of the words falling from his mouth. “They hurt me, and they hurt you, and they hurt Mom and Dad, and they took Frisk away from all of you, and _…_ And _…_ ”

Undyne spat out his shirt collar and collapsed beside him. Asriel could see from the red in her eye and the weak flapping of the gills on her neck that she was just as worn out and exhausted as he was. “It's over,” she consoled him. “It's okay. They're finished.”

The words ran through his head and out his mouth in a monotone. “It's over,” Asriel repeated.

“God, what a relief. If we hadn't won here _…_ ” Undyne sighed. “ _…_ My last words to Alphys would've been me screaming in her face about her goddamn doomsday machine.”

 _Won._ Was this what it meant to “win”?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concludes the first "Act".
> 
> There will be a few short interludes published over the next week before "Act Two" begins.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	8. Interlude I - Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first of three interludes. Takes place the day after Chapter 7.

Asgore poured a cup of tea for the Captain of the Royal Guard. He'd picked out his fish-shaped teacup just for her. “Captain Undyne, shouldn't you be in bed? Zero did quite a number on you, didn't they?” The King slid the cup across his desk to Undyne, who leaned over to take a sip from the teacup.

“I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine.”

Asgore looked up and down her, bemused. The layers of heavy bandages wrapped around her shoulders made her look like a linebacker. “If I hadn't installed an automatic door in this room, how would you have gotten in?”

Undyne chose not to answer that question. "King Asgore, my men have finished their sweep of the area.”

“So, Captain, what have your men found?”

“We found the wreckage of the Peace Roller half a mile east of Grasslands. I took Alphys with me to examine the wreckage. And she swears she has no idea how the Peace Roller was able to fly, or use its laser cannons. The last time she'd worked on the project, neither feature was anywhere near usable. The cockpit was crushed like an accordion, but there was no trace of Zero's body. Not even a corpse.”

“Captain, do you believe Doctor Alphys?”

“Of course I do! If she'd intentionally told us the Peace Roller was weaker than it was... it could have killed me. You and I both know she couldn't have wanted that. Anyway, her security data shows that the last time she used her key card for Hangar 18 was two months ago. The only person to access the hangar since then was the owner of the other keycard. I guess Alphys got cold feet, and Zero picked up the slack for her. We're assuming they had outside help, of course, but…” Undyne barely managed a shrug.

“I can't imagine anyone being brilliant enough to pick up on Alphys' unfinished work. Except, perhaps… What was his name again…? Oh, never mind. I'm sure I'll remember soon enough.” Asgore tool a long drink from his own mug of tea. “Oh dear, it's starting to go cold.”

“I'll get you some more.”

“No, you won't.” Asgore finished his tea. “You're worried about Alphys, aren't you?”

Undyne's head bobbed up and down. “Yeah! King Asgore, look, Zero used her just as much as they used all of us, you can't blame her…”

Asgore silenced her with a wave of his paw. “It's okay, Captain. We both know groveling doesn't suit you, and I have taken these circumstances into consideration. Wrong as her actions were, I was far too harsh with her. You can let her know that she is under house arrest until further notice, but can go wherever she pleases as long as she is accompanied by a member of the Royal Guard. Preferably, _you.”_

Undyne breathed an internal sigh of relief, knowing Alphys would be relieved as well. She'd been a wreck for the past day (in fact, _both_ of them had), and Undyne was starting to worry she'd burn her brain out from the stress hanging over her head. "Yes, My Lord. Thank you.”

“Also, she is forbidden from building weapons of _any_ sort without my explicit permission.”

Undyne couldn't help but laugh. The _last_ thing Alphys wanted to do was build weapons. “Of course.”

“And tell... tell Asriel that Zero's body was recovered from the wreckage. What was left of it, at least. As long as he believes Zero is alive... I fear that boy will never know peace.”

“Are you sure that's wise, Your Majesty?”

Asgore shook his head. “I am not sure, Captain. I am not sure anything I do is wise. But I feel it is best for Asriel's health if we make him believe his tormentor no longer exists.”

“He might want to see the body.”

“Find some way to fake a corpse; enlist Alphys' help if you have to. We'll hold a funeral for Zero, in the guise of a funeral for Frisk.”

“A mock funeral disguised as a mock funeral.” Undyne had a very bad gut feeling about Asgore's plan, but found it hard to disagree with his reasoning. In his fight against Zero, Asriel had become something truly _frightening._ If Asriel got it into his head that he needed to run out and hunt Zero around the globe, he could unleash _that_ on the world. And _that_ would be bad news for everyone, be they human or monster. She tried to finish off the tea, bending over and tipping the cup with her lips. Asgore reached over and gently tipped the cup over for her. “Thanks, King Asgore.”

“Oh! Undyne, I nearly forgot. I have a very important mission for you.”

“Yes?”

“Your mission is…” He squinted at her with concern. “Are you sure you can handle this?”

Did he need her to track down Zero? Was there anybody else he could count on to do such a thing? Undyne's chest swelled with pride. “You can count on me, King Asgore. What's the mission?”

Asgore stood up and walked around his desk, laying a mighty paw on her shoulder, as if ready to confide in her something of the utmost importance. “Your mission is… to go get some rest and leave all this to the rest of the Guard until you're feeling better. Here, I'll help you back to the infirmary.”


	9. Interlude II - Faring Well, Faring Poorly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another short interlude. Takes place several weeks after Chapter 7.

Toriel stepped into the courtyard to find her son basking in the late September sun, reading a surprisingly thick paperback book as he sat on the brick edge of a flowerbed. “What have you got there, my child?" She got a glance at the cover as Asriel flipped to the next page. It showed a young girl in a plain cloak wandering nervously through a frightening-looking forest.

“ _Laura Palmer and the Hermit of the Hollows_. It's part of a series.”

Toriel cleared some runaway soil off of the bricks and sat next to Asriel. Seeing him so engrossed in such a large book filled Toriel's heart with pride. She'd hardly ever seen Asriel reading anything other than the books she'd assigned him for his studies, and he only read those begrudgingly. “What is it about? Is it like those… 'animes'?”

Asriel stuck his thumb in the book and closed it. “It's about a little human girl named Laura whose parents die when she's just a baby. And she gets raised by her aunt and uncle, who hate her.” (“How terrible!” Toriel interjected.) “But then when she turns 11 she finds out she has magical powers, and a kindly old witch takes her in as an apprentice. And it turns out her real parents were part of a secret order of witches who protect the world from these bad guys called the Order of Celes, and she has to go on a quest and learn how to be a real witch so she can stop them from taking over the world.”

“It sounds like quite a frightening adventure for such a small child.”

“It's really good! It's got a lot of really funny characters and bits.” Asriel smiled. “Frisk wanted me to start reading it. They read the first book back before they fell into the Underground and wanted to know what happens next. The fourth book's coming out in a month, so I've got to catch up.” He waved the book around, demonstrating its weight. “They're getting really thick, but they're written for children and adults.”

Toriel hugged him. “Asriel, that is so sweet of you! I am so glad Frisk could help introduce you to the wonderful world of reading.”

“Frisk told me that if I didn't start doing something about how bored they were getting in the vast wasteland between my ears,” he said, “they'd start singing the most annoying song in the world. And never stop.”

Toriel pulled away from him in shock. “Frisk told you you were stupid? The nerve! Why, if they had a body of their own right now, I'd…”

“No, Mom… I was exaggerating. They were just getting stir-crazy up in there with nothing to do.”

“Even if they had said that, if they did have a body of their own, I think all I would be able to do is hug them, anyway.”

Asriel sniffled. “Frisk is…” He mouthed a word, but no sound came out. His shoulders quivered.

“There is no need to cry, my child. It may not be the most opportune living arrangement… but even so, you and Frisk share a very special and magical bond.” Toriel caressed Asriel in her arms and tousled his hair. “And as long as they live inside your mind, there will still be hope.” Her voice warbled. “Hope that, sooner or later, we will find a way to bring them back…” She couldn't hold back her tears anymore. “It is okay to cry, if it makes you feel better,” she sobbed as she pressed Asriel to her chest. “Don't you ever forget that.” The book slipped from his hand and fell to the cobblestones lining the ground, its spine facing up. “It is always okay to cry, my child.”

“Frisk is… They…” Asriel bawled. His tears dampened the sleeve of Toriel's royal robes. He couldn't stop. “I… They're…”

 –

October began with the funeral for Zero (the mock funeral for Frisk). The sky was overcast, but as much as the heavy clouds threatened rain, none fell. Asriel watched as the body was cremated and the ashes collected in a simple urn. He was crying, but then again, so was everyone. There wasn't a stony face in the castle that day (except for the old guardsman Talus, whose face was carved from living granite). In the proper monster tradition, their ashes would be scattered over the things they loved most in life. The monsters discussed the matter very thoroughly, but soon realized they weren't quite sure what that would be in Frisk's case. They knew nothing of Frisk's life before they had fallen into the ruins, and nothing of their life after the Barrier had been shattered. Eventually, a decision was made.

Toriel led the mourners to the hole Frisk had fallen into, the portal which had led them to their world. Slowly, gently, she tipped the urn over and watched as the mottled gray ashes streamed out, dispersing into a smoky cloud as they sank into the Ruins, over the flowers which still somehow sprouted there. From there, perhaps they would spread across the whole Underground, carried by the stale breeze which still whistled through the empty caverns and twisting labyrinths of that old subterranean prison. Toriel said a few words and stepped away, followed by Asgore, Sans and Papyrus, Undyne and Alphys, Napstablook and Mettaton (he'd taken time out of his _very_ busy schedule to attend the proceedings). Even a few human diplomats who had, as far as they'd known, knew Frisk from their work as ambassador, said a few parting words. Toriel expected Asriel to step up next with a eulogy of his own at any minute, but the boy was nowhere to be found.

Toriel discovered Asriel a few hours later, huddled in the corner of his bedroom. She dried his tears and held him in her arms. Even she could not fathom the depths of the torments her son had been subjected to by that vile, evil creature whose body they had burned, but she knew enough of pain to know that these experiences never really _ended,_ no matter how much you burned or buried or how hard you tried to forget. And she told him just as much, knowing it might hurt, but assured him that all of his family, and all of his friends, would always be there for him when he needed them.

Toriel knew that it was not enough, as someone who had never been able to do enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Gives Asriel a cake with "Sorry for making you cry a lot" written on it*


	10. Interlude III - The First Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One final interlude. Takes place in between chapters 2 and 3, so it's a bit of a flashback.

Frisk was playing with a length of string between their hands. Sunlit pollen hanging in the air sparkled around them. “Hey, Asriel, have you heard of a 'dreamcatcher'?”

Asriel's breath caught in his throat. The human child standing in front of him was— _gone._ He hadn't even heard their voice in his head after since the first night on the surface. He thought they'd… faded away. “F— _Frisk?_ What are you doing in my dreams?”

A hint of disappointment flashed across the child's face before vanishing. Frisk shrugged and kept playing. “I'm in your head. Your subconscious too. This isn't our first dream.” It had been a few weeks since Asriel had… come back. “But you know how dreams are.” The corners of their mouth twitched upwards—their smiles didn't usually get much bigger than that.

Asriel blinked. He could see Frisk standing right in front of him, and for a brief instant he could see the first human, too. His human sibling—Chara. The demon in human skin—Zero. Then it was gone.

“If you don't like it, I can leave your dreams alone—”

Asriel cut off the rest of Frisk's words as he flung his arms around the child. Frisk's hands trembled, but eventually they did the same, lowing their arms (still connected by the twine around their fingers) over Asriel's head. Their body felt strange in Asriel's embrace—as if, any second, his arms would pass right through them. Touching them felt like touching an ice cube after sticking your hands in the snow for five minutes. And they didn't smell like a human—in fact, they didn't smell like anything. Was he the same way from Frisk's perspective?

Asriel looked over Frisk's shoulder. The sun was behind the both of them, and yet… only _his_ shadow stretched out from their feet. The human child had none of their own. “I'm so, so sorry,” he mumbled.

“Is that a yes, or a no?”

“Will I remember them?”

“I don't know.”

“Will I remember this one?”

“Maybe.”

Asriel and Frisk sat down in the dirt next to each other, sunflowers towering over them. “Why sunflowers?”

“This is your dream. I'm just a—along for the ride.”

“Do you like them?”

“Not really.”

“I don't, either.” Asriel snapped his fingers. The sunflowers changed into stalks of wheat. “Wow, cool!” He looked at Frisk. “I didn't know that would work!” He snapped his fingers a few more times. Corn. Water sausages. Raspberry bushes. Wheat again. A grin spread across his face. “This is so cool, Frisk!”

Frisk smiled faintly as Asriel continued to play with their surroundings, turning the sky green, making the sun square. They clapped their hands and turned the sun off, enveloping the world in darkness. The moon and stars faded into view. “So, have you heard of it?”

“Heard of what?”

“The dreamcatcher.”

“Nope.” Asriel looked at the string between Frisk's splayed-out fingers. “Is that one?”

“This? No. Cat's cradle.”

“Doesn't look big enough for a cat.” Asriel snapped his fingers again, and a tiny black kitten appeared, caught in the strings. _“Now_ it's a cat's cradle.”

Frisk lowered the mewling kitten to the ground and let it run off. Their face had gone ashen.

“A-are you okay, Frisk?”

“Yeah. Don't worry about me.” Frisk fashioned the twine into a spiderweb pattern. “Messing with reality just…”

Treating the world around him like clay between a sculptor's fingers. It must have reminded Frisk of what Asriel had used to be like. “I'm making you uncomfortable, aren't I?”

Frisk shook their head. “No, no.”

“I'm sorry.” Asriel remembered just barely enough about what he'd been to know that it wasn't the kind of person he wanted to be. “We can't control the real world, so let's both try to make this a happy place. So what were you saying? About the… dream hunter?”

“Dreamcatcher. So, this dreamcatcher. It's a thing some humans made. They'd hang it over their heads before they went to bed. It would catch any bad dreams that tried to get in, but good dreams would go through the middle.”

“Why can't bad dreams go through the middle, too?”

“They're too big.”

Asriel nodded in agreement. Yes, that made sense. “Should I make a dreamcatcher for us?”

“I don't think we need one.”

It was the first dream Asriel would remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Act Two will begin on Friday, the 25th of December. I didn't plan it that way, that's just how it ended up.


	11. Chara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, destiny is forged.

It was a month before the fallen human was ready to speak. Toriel and Asgore had taken care of them as best they could, although they didn't know much about humans (let alone human children), but the human had opened their mouth only to eat and drink. Most of their time was spent lying almost-motionless in the second bed Toriel had placed in Asriel's room, although they occasionally wandered about, never leaving the bedroom.

“This child was very badly hurt by their fall,” Toriel had told them. “It may be a while before they will be up and about.”

“But why can't they talk? Did they hurt their throat?”

Toriel had patted him on the shoulder. “Asriel, sometimes people get hurt… on the inside. In their mind and their soul. These wounds can take much longer to heal than any physical injury. I do not know when they will be ready to speak to us.” She had also reminded him: “Humans have not seen monsters in over one thousand years. Nothing frightens humans more than the unknown, and this child must be very, very afraid of us. But as long as we keep showing them kindness, they will eventually warm up to us.”

Asriel spent most of his time with the child. It was nice to have someone to talk to other than his parents. Someone who at least seemed interested in what he had to say, and would often nod as if to say, “Go on,” if Asriel paused in the middle of a story. Occasionally, while he sat next to the child, they would reach out to grab his face, poke his snout, or tug on his ears. It was irritating, but Toriel told him to let the child carry on like that as long as they were still injured, so they would learn that Asriel and his family presented no danger to them.

The child was picking at their fingernails, clacking one against the other as Asriel told them about his day. Asriel would (eventually) learn that humans did not have claws, and that they normally kept their fingernails trimmed short.

“…And then I got chased by a Moldbygg, and it got me all covered in goop. And Mom made me take another bath. But other than that, it was great fun! I can't wait 'til you're better, I can show you all the best bug hunting spots, and we can hunt for buried treasure, and… I mean, if you'd like to do all that stuff…”

Asriel looked at them. “Would you like to do all that stuff? When you're better?” The child looked right through him. They rolled their eyes up and their throat quivered as their tongue lolled out. A gurgling sound came from their mouth. “Oh my gosh! Are you okay? Is it something you ate? Are you dying!? I'll go get Mom!!!” Asriel leaped up and made for the door.

The child's gurgling was replaced with rattling, croaking laughter as their face returned to normal. Asriel's momentary panic subsided. He laughed nervously. “Uh, g-good joke. You really had me going for a moment…”

The child smiled and raised their right hand, pointing at Asriel with their index finger. “As…riel.”

 _They talked._ “You…!”

The child curled their finger inward, pointing to themselves. “Chara…”

Asriel grabbed the child's hands. “Chara, you can talk!” He hugged them. “That's so great! You must have so many interesting things to say about the surface, and what humans are like, and what games they play… We can teach all the other kids about them!”

Chara gently pushed Asriel away. “Too… close,” they rasped. “Too…”

“I'm so sorry! Did I hurt you?”

Chara shook their head. “Too much.”

They pointed at Asriel again. “Boy…?”

Asriel nodded. “What about you?”

Chara shrugged.

“Don't know?”

“Don't care.”

“Do you use, um… _pronouns?”_ Asriel knew that most humans only believed there were two genders, but monsters knew of the existence of many genders. He hadn't expected the fallen human to be anything like them.

They pointed at their throat. “Water.”

“I've, uh… I've never heard that one before. How do I… con… conjug… conjunct… conjure…”

Chara pointed at their throat again. “Water.”

“Oh!” Asriel scrambled out of the room. “I-I'll be right back with some water! _Mom! Dad! Chara can talk!”_

And boy, could they. Chara didn't seem interested in saying much about life on the surface or what humans were like (although they could teach Asriel many, many card games), but the child had a mind full of questions. They pestered Asgore and Toriel constantly—What were monsters made of? Could they all do magic? How long did they live? How long had they been underground? Where did all their food come from?—and when they had exhausted the King and Queen's patience, they turned to Asriel for answers for all the rest of their questions. Asriel didn't have many, on account of being nine years old (about the same age as Chara, but they acted _so_ much more grown-up than him), but he did the best he could.

It was fun having a real friend. Everyone was so nice to Asriel all the time, even the other kids, but it all felt like an act. Whenever he played with them, he felt like an intruder, an outsider. They never gave him nicknames, or joked with him, or played pranks on him.

Chara did.

 –

“Say 'uncle', Azzy!” Chara kept their knee in the small of Asriel's back as they twisted his arm behind his back. Their lips were peeled back in a feral grin. Four parallel red streaks cut across their left cheek.

“I give up, Chara! You're too strong!” Asriel squirmed. “Get off me!”

“That's not how it works, Azzy! You gotta say, 'uncle'!”

There was a knock on the bedroom door. Toriel's voice came from the other end. “Children, is everything all right in there?”

Asriel whined. His nose was bleeding. “It _actually_ hurts, Chara!”

The door opened. “It doesn't _sound_ like everything's—” She gasped. “Asriel! Chara!” She pulled Chara off of the prince by the collar of their shirt. “What's going on here?”

Chara flailed around, their scuffed shoes kicking the air. “We were only—”

“Chara, Asriel, I do not care one way or another _how_ this started. But humans and monsters must never, never fight!”

“That's a double negative, Mom.” Chara started trying to take their shirt off in midair. “You just told us that humans and monsters should always fight!”

Toriel set Chara down on the other side of the room. “Don't you try to wise your way out of this, little one. Asriel, how did this start?”

“It was just a game, Mom. Honest! And Chara won, fair and square.”

Toriel sighed. “If you two are so intent on rough-housing, go have your father teach you to do so in a civilized manner. Just don't beat each other up, and especially not in your own bedroom!”

“We're sorry, Mom.” Asriel apologized for both of them, knowing that Chara, although they seemed to know every other word in the dictionary, did not seem to have that phrase in their vocabulary. Chara stared at the ground as Toriel attended to the wound on their cheek.

“Asriel, did you do this to Chara?” Toriel dabbed at the cuts with an iodine-soaked cloth. Chara winced.

“Chara told me to give 'em all I got, Mom,” Asriel explained, knowing immediately that it was a stupid explanation. Chara nodded.

“Asriel, you know you are supposed to keep your claws filed. There is no need for violence in this world.”

“Then why does Dad have a—Ow! Do you just carry that stuff around with you everywhere, Mom?” Chara unsuccessfully pulled away from Toriel as she dabbed a little more iodine than necessary on their cuts.

“As long as you live under this roof, yes, Chara, I do.” She finished cleaning their wound and slapped a bandage on it.

“Why does Dad have that trident for?”

“That is purely symbolic, dear.”

Chara grumbled. “Symbolic my asssssszzzzzz…riel! Asriel! You're okay, right, brother?”

Asriel nodded. “This really wasn't a big deal, Mom.” He wiped the blood from his snout on his forearm.

Toriel set to work on him next. “I do not want to hear it, Asriel.”

“I know. We won't fight anymore, Mom. I swear.”

“I swear, too.” Chara walked over to Asriel's side and draped an arm over his shoulder. “No more fighting. Ever.” They winked.

“I saw that wink, child.” Toriel stood over the siblings, her paws on her hips. “Asriel, if Chara ever tries to fight you, do exactly what I told you to do—make pleasant conversation until I arrive to defuse the situation. Understand?”

“Yes, Mom.”

She hugged him. “I love you, Asriel. But you've made a disappointing choice today.”

“I'm s-sorry, Mom.”

Toriel made for the door. “Dinner will be ready soon, children. We are having stew tonight!” She left.

Chara patted Asriel on the shoulder. “Ya did good, kid.”

Asriel sniffed. “I'm s-sorry, Chara…”

“Shh. _Shh.”_ Chara ran their fingers over Asriel's ears. “It's okay. I'm proud of you, Azzy. You got some good licks in.”

“B-but Mom…”

“She'll forgive you.” Chara shrugged. “Probably.”

“P- _probably?”_

“Eh. I'm no mind reader. And to heck with what she thinks!” Chara ran the tips of their fingers along Asriel's claws. They had such long, slender fingers. Toriel had spent the past year trying to persuade Chara to take up piano. They had what she had called a very “avant-garde” style of playing. “Mom wants you to be a little goody-two-shoes for the rest of your life. But these claws… these were made for fucking people up!”

“Chara!”

Chara blushed. “Oops. I meant, 'fricking people up'. You're a warrior, Azzy. Like me!”

“A-a warrior?”

Chara flopped onto their bed. “Yeeeeahhhh. In my hometown, I had to have my fists registered as lethal weapons. Back on the surface… they called me Jack the Ripper!”

Asriel curled up in his own bed. “But your name's not Jack…”

“And I never ripped anyone open, either. But I _could've,_ if I had claws and fangs like yours. You're like… a wolf goat! With… a cute little cotton ball bunny tail. Oh, well. Take it from me—no _body's_ perfect. But up there, you know, it's _kill or be killed_.”

“Mom and Dad fought in the war, you know. They've got 'experience'. If they say we don't need to fight, they _mean_ it, Chara.”

“That was like _two million years ago!_ Mom and Dad are _ooooold._ And besides, the human world's _way_ different than here. They've forgotten that. 'Cause they're old."

Asriel blanched. “Are you saying you… you really _killed_ people?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on there. I only killed _bad_ people, Azzy.” They raised their hands in the air. “I was… an angel of justice!” They laughed.

Asriel forced a nervous laugh. “T-that's real funny… I guess… You almost had me going for a second!”

“Heh, heh… yeah.”

“They didn't _really_ call you 'Jack the Ripper' up there… right?”

“Pfft. No.”

“A-a-and you didn't _really_ go around killing people… right?”

“Hah! As _if. _”_ _ Chara leapt to another topic with the grace of a gazelle. “Asriel, we should get bunk beds!”

“…Bunk beds?”

“Yeah, so I can do this in the middle of the night!” Chara leaned over the side of their bed and waved, as if Asriel were a few feet below them. “Hey, Asriel! Look at what I can do!” They made a ghastly face. _“_ _I'm Jack the Ripper and I have come for your SOOOOUUUULLL!”_

Asriel shuddered. “W-well, it's not gonna scare me when you do that now!”

“Oh, just you wait, Azzy. _Just you wait.”_

 –

Despite Asriel's protests, he spent the night in his parents' bedroom. By the next morning, Chara had removed their bandage and was scratching at the thin scabs on their cheek over breakfast.

“Those wounds will never heal if you keep scratching at them,” Toriel reprimanded them.

“They're not _wounds_ , Mom. These… are _scars of battle!”_

“You will have _real_ scars if you do not let those heal, Chara.”

“Real _neat_ scars. Chicks dig scars.”

“You are far too young, Chara Dreemurr, to start thinking about what 'chicks' happen to 'dig'!”

“When I grow up, I'm gonna be a teenage heartthrob!”

“I'm still really sorry about yesterday,” Asriel told Chara.

The human child blew a raspberry and patted the boy prince's paws. “Don't be, you silly billy goat.”

“The two of you _should_ be sorry. But especially _you,_ Chara. This is a peaceful place. We have no enemies underground.”

 _And no friends,_ Asriel thought. Toriel had told him often that, back before the war, princes and princesses had plenty of other princes and princesses from neighboring kingdoms to play with. But underground, there were no neighboring kingdoms.

“Except me, the human,” Chara said with a note of pride.

“You are not our enemy.” Toriel tousled their hair. “You are our child, whom we love _very_ much.”

Chara scowled. _“Mom_ , you're gonna make my hair all frizzy!” They pulled themselves away from her. “C'mon, Azzy, let's go find Jerry, then ditch 'em.”

“You leave that Jerry alone. He's had a hard life.”

But the door was already swinging shut behind Chara.

Asriel stood up, leaving half-finished pancakes on his plate. “Mom, you know Chara. They'll get in trouble without me around.”

Toriel sighed. “They'll get in trouble _with_ you around…” She watched her son run out after his adopted sibling. “Good heavens, Toriel,” she muttered aloud to herself. “How are you going to survive their teenage years…?”

 – 

Asriel chased Chara all the way to Waterfall before he caught up with them. He stooped over, panting with exhaustion, while Chara jogged circles around him. “I found a cool thing here!” they shouted excitedly at Asriel. “C'mon! Forget about Jerry!”

Asriel looked up as Chara pushed a goo-covered pinkish chrysalis in his face. “Look!” Chara half-whispered. _“Dog residue…”_

“Is… is that the cool thing?”

“No! But we can sell it to Temmie and get many monies!” Chara jogged away. “The cool thing is over here!”

Chara led Asriel through Waterfall, over the perpetually-damp soil, under the diamond-studded stones overhead and through the fields of echo flowers Chara had painstakingly taught to say swear words. Asriel ignored them. Finally, they reached a dark tunnel.

 _“_ _Azzy, do your fire thing.”_

Asriel snapped his fingers, producing a single candle-like tongue of flame between his thumb and middle finger. Chara called it a “party trick”, but was always visibly impressed when Asriel did it.

“Lead the way, Bringer of Fire!” Chara curtseyed and beckoned Asriel toward the corridor. “I'll tell you when to stop."

Asriel took a few slow steps into the darkness. His little light cast deep shadows on the craggy walls.

“Keep going… keep going… keep going… _Stop!”_

Asriel jumped. The fire went out.

“Put it back! Put it back!” Chara shouted as the darkness enveloped the two of them. Asriel frantically snapped his fingers, but kept snapping the wrong ones, and only produced a few measly orange sparks.

“C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!”

“It doesn't work if you put me under pressure!”

“I believe in you, Asriel! You can do anything if you believe in the people who believe in you!”

Finally, Asriel lit another flame.

“Turn to your right!” Chara was as giddy as a puppy.

Asriel turned around. The wall to his right was made of what looked like perfectly ordinary… “…Rocks?”

 _“_ _I know it rocks,”_ Chara squealed. They stretched their arms out over the general area and hugged the wall. _“Isn't this beautiful?”_

Asriel squinted really hard at the rocks, but they were just that—rocks. Was there supposed to be something interesting in all the little nooks and crannies? Chara looked at him with the biggest smile they'd ever worn plastered on their face. In the flickering light from Asriel's fingertips it looked almost ghoulish.

Eventually, their face fell. “Y… you see it, right? Don't you?”

“Chara, as far as pranks go… this, uh… it's not one of your best…” Asriel felt as though he'd done something wrong by not “getting” his sibling's prank.

Chara knocked on the wall. “Y-you don't see it?” Their voice wavered. “There's a door right here.”

“There isn't…”

Chara tugged on the wall. “Look, I'll open it up for you.”

This was really far to go for a prank that didn't make sense and wasn't even very funny. Was Chara sick? Asriel knew there were some illnesses that could make people see and hear things that weren't there. Maybe they just needed to be taken back home, tucked into bed, and given some of Toriel's nice snail soup…

“Chara, let's go home… You're really scaring me…”

Chara vanished.

“Chara?”

Asriel pawed at the rock wall where the human child had been just a moment ago. It was just a solid rock wall, cool and slightly slimy under his paw pads. He looked to his left and right. “Chara?” They had to be hiding somewhere in the corridor, they _had_ to, they couldn't have just _vanished—_

Asriel felt along the wall. Was there a hole? Some sort of crevice they'd fallen into? If they'd fallen somewhere, why weren't they calling out for help? “Chara? Are you okay? Can you hear me? This isn't funny! T-the prank's over!”

There was nothing.

He was alone.

Tears stung Asriel's eyes and dripped into his mouth. “Come back, Chara!” he cried out between sobs. He pounded weakly on the wall, as if there really had been a door there. _“Give them back! Give me back my friend!”_

What seemed like hours passed by in the dark, mossy tunnel as Asriel felt his hands and knees sink into the soft mud underneath him. He could hardly breathe through the sobs wracking his body. Chara was gone. His best friend. His _only_ friend.

What would Mom and Dad think? Would they blame themselves? Would they blame _him,_ for not doing a good enough job of keeping Chara out of trouble?

Something heavy fell on top of Asriel, knocking him over. He felt around the object, pushing it off of him. It was soft. He could feel cotton, like the cotton his sweater. Hair, unruly and gnarled. Skin, clammy and cold.

Chara.

Asriel hugged the body close, tenderly feeling the contours of their face, the pliable curves of their ears. He knew the owner of that face, those ears, that sweater. It was them. Chara. His friend. He fumbled for the child's wrist and pressed his paw over it. A pulse. Weak and slow, but steady. They needed help.

Asriel dragged Chara out of the tunnel. Chara was about his size, but a little stronger, and weighed just a little more. Asriel had never carried anything as heavy as himself before and struggled under the human's weight. The light from the glowing crystals outside cast a magenta hue on the pale skin of their face as the human child moaned something indiscernible. “It's okay, Chara,” Asriel reassured them. “I've got you now. You're gonna be okay…”

_“Asriel…”_

“Shh, it's gonna be okay, I'm gonna get you home…”

 _“_ _Behind that door…”_

They were still going on about that imaginary door. Asriel decided they must really be sick.

 _“_ _There was nothing…”_

“There wasn't anything there, Chara…”

 _“No…_ _”_ Chara's hand reached out and pulled on a fistful of Asriel's striped sweater. _“There wasn't 'not anything'… there was_ nothing.”

Nothing Chara was saying made any sense. Asriel ignored their incoherent ramblings as he patted Chara's ice-cold hand. “You're gonna be okay, Chara… I'm gonna take you to your bed, and Mom'll make that soup you like, and you'll be all better before you know it…”

Woshua trundled by the children and, seeing their condition, immediately set to work scrubbing the dirt from their clothes. Asriel snarled and pushed the monster away, and immediately felt bad about it as he watched it scurry into one of the glittering tunnels. He trudged onward.

Asriel wasn't watching where he was going, and eventually bumped into someone much larger than him. “I'm sorry, we're in a lot of trouble,” he apologized profusely, “my friend is hurt and I think they might be sick…”

“Asriel? Chara?”

Asriel looked up. His mother stared down at him, looking worried half to death.

“Mom…?”

Toriel swept the two children up in her arms, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I was so worried about you, my children! You've been gone for _hours…”_

Hours? No, it had only _felt_ like hours…

Toriel attended to Chara. “They're ice cold… What happened, Asriel?” Something about the iron in her voice frightened him.

“They—they were s-seeing things, and—and then they—a-and then they disappeared and I c-c-couldn't find them, and… and…” Asriel couldn't shake the feeling that, for some reason, this was all his fault.

Toriel held him close to her chest. “There, there, my child. I will bring the both of you home. Chara will be all right. You took care of them as best you could.”

“Is… is Chara's brain broken, Mom?”

“No, dear. Chara's brain is not broken. They will be right as rain in just a few days, you will see.” Toriel held the children, one in each arm, and made her way back to the castle.

–

Chara was delirious for the next few days and ran a frightful fever, but soon, he was up and about, as if nothing had even happened. They never made any mention of the “door” they had found, and when Asriel brought it up, feigned ignorance. To Chara, it was if that particular day simply had not happened. If they had not been so deathly ill, Asriel would have thought that part of the prank as well.

About a week later, just after Toriel had sent the two of them to bed (Chara had not yet been able to convince her to help them turn the beds into bunk beds) Chara asked Asriel for a special favor.

“Hey, Azzy?”

Asriel rolled over. “Yeah?” he murmured wearily.

“Are you still up?”

“Yeah.” Or, at least, he was now.

“Can I ask you for a favor?” Chara's voice was syrupy sweet, as it always was when they wanted to goad Asriel into doing something.

“Does it have anything to do with all those cookies Mom baked?”

“Nah, that's not what I had in mind. Do you _promise_ you'll do this for me, though?”

“Will I have to break any rules?”

“No, not this time!” Chara reassured him. “It's just… Would you be okay with calling me something else from now on?”

“Sure.” Asriel knew plenty of people who'd changed their names at some point in their lives. “But what's wrong with your name?”

“Nothing. I just came up with a cool nickname and I wanna share it with you. It'll just be between us, though. Our little secret.”

“What is it?”

Chara took a deep breath. “…Zero.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, kid, this is where it gets complicated...


	12. Today is a Special Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Asriel has a very special 15th birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only good things happen in this chapter!
> 
> Well, okay, mostly good things!

Asriel woke up to the vibrations of his phone. He didn't recognize the number. Groggily, he put the phone on speaker. “Hello, this is Asriel Dreemurr…?”

The voice that answered was cold and robotic. “ａｓ－ｒｉ－ｅｌ－ｄｒｅｅ－ｍｕｒｒ．”

“Who is this? How did you get this number?”

“ｔｏ－ｄａｙ－ｉｓ－ａ－ｓｐｅ－ｃｉａｌ－ｄａｙ．”

“Sans, is that you?”

“ｇｏ－ｄｏｗｎ－ｓｔａｉｒｓ．”

“Sans, I gotta say, your pranks… aren't very good.”

There was a horrific, computerized shriek. It was as if an ancient dial-up modem had been stabbed while trying to connect to the internet. Asriel fumbled the phone. It fell onto his blankets face-up, and a string of unfamiliar characters briefly scrolled across the screen before the phone went dead.

Asriel picked up the phone. It was hot to the touch. Holding onto the power button did nothing; whatever that call was, it had at the very least killed its battery. He was beginning to doubt this was a prank from his honorary uncle Sans. He pulled himself out of bed and crept downstairs. What could the caller have been, then? Robbers? Kidnappers? Murderers? Were his parents okay?

_Was it Zero?_

No. Zero was dead. Undyne had shown him their charred remains. They'd finished the job the Peace Roller had started and cremated the body, given them a traditional monster funeral. A mock funeral for Frisk, a real one for the thing that took their place. They could never hurt anyone ever again.

The castle was silent. The morning sun filled each room with long streams of sunlight. The wooden floor creaked beneath his footpaws.

Asriel checked the kitchen. It was empty, and immaculately clean. Oddly enough, the trash can was empty. It hadn't been empty when he'd snuck down in the middle of the night for a snack.

He took a step into the dining room and felt something snap against his ankle. A black tarp fell over his head, and Asriel felt four sequential _snap_ s as motorized bolts on each corner of the tarp embedded themselves in the floor. He conjured a burning spear, filling his little prison with yellow-orange light. The material was slick and smooth, and although his claws slipped right off it, it felt dry to the touch. The ends of the spear stretched the tarp to its limit, but the material would neither tear nor catch on fire.

Asriel futilely punched the tarp. “What is this? What do you want from me?” He bent over, grabbing the edge of the tarp, and pulled upward, straining against the bolts pinning it to the floor. “If you're trying to get at my parents through me, it won't work! They'll kick your ass! Assuming I don't get to you first! Which I probably will, because I'm really cool and tough!”

There was a jolt, and the floor pitched upward. Accompanied by much whirring and clacking, the wooden floor under Asriel began to trundle forward. Asriel thrashed around and the floor fell over on its side, taking him with it. He lay on his side as the machinery beneath his feet continued to whirr.

Asriel could hear footsteps.

“Oh, so _that's_ why it was taking so long!” a completely unfamiliar voice said. “Namazu, this is Littlefoot. The 'gift bag's' delivery mechanism has encountered a setback. I'm securing the package right now. The 'product' is already starting to melt.”

Asriel felt somebody turn him right-side up, and the floor began to trundle forward again. He could hear his captor struggling to keep up with him. “What's going on? Who are you? What do you want from me?” There was no response from his captor.

The floor beneath him came to a halt, and Asriel felt the four bolts pinning him down pop themselves free. He threw the cloak aside, tracing a fiery arc around his body with his polearm. His captor shrieked and stumbled backward. It was…

“I'm really sorry about this, Prince Asriel!” Alphys pulled a small black box off of her throat, and her voice returned to normal. “I-it was all Papyrus' idea!”

“And I would have gotten away with it, too, if it hadn't been for your poorly-designed propulsion system!” Papyrus shook his fist.

“Spider legs are very good! The m-moving floor just wasn't properly counterbalanced against his body weight…”

“Hey, Alphys, you aren't calling the prince fat, are you?” Sans said.

_Alphys? Papyrus?? Sans???_

“Hey, he may be slacking off on his training, but he's still in very good shape!” Undyne retorted.

Asriel blinked against the morning sun. He was standing on a spider-legged platform in the courtyard, feeling very confused and just a little embarrassed, and wearing nothing but his pajamas. The brisk November wind ruffled his fur.

Undyne had set up a table next to the oak sapling in the center of the courtyard. There was a slowly-melting ice cream cake on the table, next to a pile of brightly-wrapped boxes. Behind the tree were two very large people trying very unsuccessfully to hide behind it.

 _“_ _HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ASRIEL!”_

“W… what?”

Sans shook his head. “Wow, kiddo, I can't believe you forgot your own birthday. That doesn't start happening until you're _at least_ fifty.”

“I—I knew it was my birthday! I just… I though something bad had…”

Toriel stepped out from behind the tree. “Do not fear, my child. Your father and I were merely hiding behind this tree the whole time. I'm sorry if our prank was too much for you. It was all Papyrus' idea!”

“Wowee, I can't believe I'm being thrown under the bus by the Queen herself!” said Papyrus.

“Alphys and Papyrus worked really hard on that trap,” Toriel told Asriel.

“The tarp we used to hold you down? It's made of a carbon nanofiber weave of my own design! A perfect electrical insulator, completely flame-resistant, stronger than steel…” Alphys babbled. “And the secret platform took weeks to develop, but the hard part was making sure it blended in with the rest of the floor…”

“Do you think maybe we should begin the festivities… before the cake melts?” Papyrus asked.

Asriel took a look at the cake. Bright green ice cream leaked from the bottom of a decadent chocolate cake. A careful hand had written in elegant letters, “Happy Birthday Asriel + Frisk” in green icing, ringed in by fifteen burning candles.

“Asriel and Frisk…”

“We never really knew when Frisk's birthday was,” Toriel told him. “We only really knew them for… a few days, I suppose. We don't even know if _Zero_ knew when their birthday was.”

“And since you and Frisk are, uh… metaphysically conjoined?” Alphys added, “we thought maybe we could celebrate both of you on the same day!”

“If you don't mind sharing, that is,” Toriel said.

Asriel and Frisk. “N-no, that's fine,” Asriel said. “Heh, as long as we don't have to share our presents, right?”

“Make a wish… both of you, if you'd like.”

Asriel couldn't decide what to wish for, but blew out the candles in one breath anyway.

Toriel cut a corner piece off of the cake and slid it onto a small plate. “Papyrus is very proud of this cake.”

“I made everything from scratch! Even the ice cream!” The lanky skeleton's cheekbones practically glowed with pride.

Asriel eyed his slice of the cake from all sides. “…Where's the spaghetti?”

“Is that how you see me? A one-trick pony? My culinary skills have grown considerably! I have… branched out.”

“Asriel, this is your last chance to _leaf,”_ Sans told him.

Asriel took a bite of the cake. It was… His entire face scrunched up. The taste was… sour. Very sour. The sourest thing he'd ever tasted, in fact.

“Do you like it, Young Lordship?”

Asriel swallowed it. “It's… It's…”

Toriel swiped up some of the melted ice cream with her finger and licked it. Her entire face scrunched up immediately. “Papyrus! You told me you were going to make mint ice cream!”

“There's _some_ mint in it! But mostly, it's a special lime meringue ice cream of my own design… I wanted it to be a surprise!”

Undyne dug into her slice. “That's what I'm talking about, Paps!” Her eye watered.

Asriel took another bite. “Actually, when you get used to it, it's not so bad…” It was still unbelievably sour, but the second bite was much less of a shock than the first.

“How many limes did you use, Papyrus?” Asgore asked.

“All…? All of them…?” Papyrus responded sheepishly.

“Our scullery must have had dozens of limes. You used _all_ of them? On _one_ cake?”

Toriel took a bite of the cake. “The ice cream _is_ quite strong… but this cake really does have potential. For future reference, Papyrus, the lime flavor would pair much better with vanilla or dark chocolate. It could be much similar to a key lime pie, without the crust. And…”

“…Yes, m'lady?”

 _“_ _Please_ try to use fewer limes next time.”

The cake vanished extremely quickly. Sans ate at least half of it. “You gotta get me this recipe, bro,” he told Papyrus. “I'm really proud of how good of a chef you've become. I guess you started taking lessons from Toriel at just the right _lime.”_

“You can forget about getting your grubby little phalanges on _my_ recipe, Sans!”

“We're sorry, Papyrus,” Sans chuckled. “Please don't be _bitter.”_

“Limes aren't bitter! They're _tart!”_

Toriel giggled. “You're right, Papyrus. This cake is a work of _tart.”_

“My retorts only give you further ammunition! How could I be bested so easily!?”

“Would you like to open your presents now, Asriel?” Toriel grabbed one off the table and handed it to him.

Asriel read the tag on it. “This one's from… Alphys?”

“Y-you don't have to open that one first! Um, unless you really want to!” Alphys blushed.

Asriel tore open the wrapping paper and opened the plain white box beneath. Inside was a silken cloak, a deep violet with the Delta Rune, his family crest, on the back in white. The inner lining of the cloak was blood-red and incredibly soft. He put it on over his pajamas and suddenly felt much warmer.

“I-it's made of nanofibers, just like the tarp we used to trap you! It's a thermal and electrical insulator, completely fireproof, and puts Kevlar body armor to shame! I-if you bundled up in that, a bomb could go off next to you and you wouldn't even feel a breeze!”

Asriel swirled the cape around him and struck a pose. “I bet I look just like an anime superhero in this!”

“You'd look even more like one if you weren't wearing pink PJ's,” Undyne told him.

“A-actually, with that cloak, you look just like the main character in this one show—it's about two brothers who use magic to bring their mom back to life, but they end up losing their bodies instead! And then they have to go on an adventure to… uh… get their bodies back… and, and save the world, too! I, uh, included the DVD box set in the box in case you'd like to check it out.”

Asriel checked the box. The box set was in there, along with…

“There's also CDs of the original score, the OP and ED singles, the special insert song that plays during the second-to-last episode… B-but I've gone on long enough!” Alphys drew back. “Y-you should open up Undyne's present next!”

Toriel shuffled through the gifts. “Oh, here's Undyne's present!” It was a long, thin box, nearly as long as Asriel was tall. She handed it to him.

Asriel opened it up. It was… a katana. And it was awesome.

“Undyne, is this an appropriate gift for a fifteen-year-old boy?” Toriel asked her. She pulled the box from Asriel's hands.

“But Mom, it's so cool!” Asriel protested.

“Don't you worry, milady,” Undyne said. “That's a reverse-blade sword, just like—”

“Just like the one used by Samurai Zed, the rogue samurai who swore an oath never to kill again!” Alphys interrupted. “The b-blade is reversed so that the dull side faces forward!”

“The sheath can also be used as…” Undyne pulled the lacquered black sheath out of the box and pressed a hidden button on the side. A cloth dome unfurled from the sides. “An umbrella!”

“The umbrella is also bulletproof, fireproof, can probably stand impacts from rocket-propelled grenades as well…” Alphys trailed off.

“Why are both your gifts bulletproof?” Asgore asked Alphys and Undyne.

“Well, I accidentally produced way more of the carbon nanofiber weave than I needed, so… I'm making everything I can out of it!”

Undyne rapped on her chest. “Even my sports bra is made of the stuff, and it's the lightest and most breathable thing I've ever worn! It'll revolutionize women's undergarments!”

Toriel handed her son a much larger package. “This is from Papyrus and Sans.”

 _“_ _Do you think he'll like it, brother?”_ Papyrus whispered to Sans.

Asriel opened the box. Inside, covered in a layer of wadded-up tissue paper, was a ragged red scarf.

“This gift is very sentimental,” Papyrus sniffed. “It's the exact scarf I was wearing when I first met the human Frisk… I can only hope this token brings the two of you closer. I mean, closer than you already are. Which is very close already. Well, I hope it keeps you warm.”

Asriel wrapped it around his neck. He was beginning to feel quite warm. “Frisk, huh…” He forced a smile. “I think they really like it, Papyrus!” The skeleton was enraptured.

Asriel pawed through the rest of the box and pulled out a slip of paper. He read it aloud. “'I. O. U. All of Papyrus' leftover bolognese sauce for the rest of the year. Signed, Sans.'”

“Sans! You can't give someone someone else's stuff as a present!”

“Turn it over, kid.”

Asriel turned over the slip of paper and read the writing on it aloud. “'That sure made Papyrus freak out, didn't it? Just kidding, now read the rest of this to yourself.'” He read onward. _I accidentally forgot to get a gift for you, but how about a nice dinner on me at the best burger joint on the_ _Earth_ _? It's the least I can do._ Sans winked at him. “Gee, Sans, you shouldn't have…”

Toriel passed another package along to Asriel. “This one is from Asgore.”

The box was filled with tea. Green tea, black tea, white tea, peppermint tea, chamomile tea, pumpkin spice tea… No golden flower tea, though, even though it was Asgore's personal favorite. Asgore and Toriel had learned early enough that Asriel was not comfortable being reminded of those flowers.

“There's a very special blend in there, Asriel. I made it myself! It's much like Sea Tea, except I added some pineapple and coconut flavoring. It's perfect hot or on ice. If you mix it in with a piña colada it makes for quite a refreshing beverage… But you'll find out about that when you're old enough to drink!”

Toriel handed Asriel the last package. It was very large. “And this one… is from me!”

Asriel opened the box, only to find another box. And inside one, another. With each nested box, Toriel giggled just a little bit harder. Asriel opened what he hoped was the last box and found… toadstools. Lots of toadstools. Red caps dotted with white splotches, just like they always looked in cartoons. He looked at Toriel, expecting an explanation.

“I tried to fit your present in there…” Toriel snorted. “But… but…” She couldn't hold back her laughter. “They—They took up—took up too muh… muh… _MUSHROOM!”_ There were tears in her eyes. She pounded on the table. _“_ _They took up too mushroom!”_

Asriel should have known. This whole thing had probably been his mom's idea from the start. Everyone thought it was funny. He _wanted_ to think it was funny, too, but…

Toriel handed him another box, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I'm sorry, my child. Here is your real birthday present.” Asriel took it. “Do not worry. It is just the one box, and you will find no fungi in this one.”

Asriel opened it up. Inside was a box of candies, a pair of slippers, and a very large book. It was a doorstopper—it must have had no less than six hundred pages—and had a picture of a young witch shooting lightning from her hands on the front cover. "Laura Palmer and the Champion of the Winds."

“Those were the books you were reading for Frisk, were they not?”

Asriel nodded.

“I hope you both enjoy this one.”

“Y-yeah.” He found himself holding back a tear. “We will.”

“Oh, and there is one more thing. This is from both your father and me.” She pulled a golden pendant from her pocket and handed it to him.

Asriel turned it over in his palm. A simple symbol of the sun and moon was engraved on the front, and on the back, a single phrase, engraved by a careful hand. _For the two who returned. 11/17/202X_

“There's something inside, too.”

Asriel opened the pendant. On one side was a family photo, taken the day after the barrier had come down. Zero hadn't been around—it was just him, and his mother and father. On the reverse side was a shot of Frisk on one of Mettaton's madcap game shows. Those were the only pictures they had of the _real_ Frisk. Alphys was in the corner, making a “C” with her claws.

“It's… it's really beautiful, Mom. T-thank you.”

Toriel hugged him. “I love you, my child. My children… I love you both.” Asgore joined in as well.

“Mom… Dad… Not in front of my f—”

“We love you too, Asriel and Frisk!” Papyrus shouted.

“Y-yeah! We all love you!”

Asriel had to lie down for a bit after that.

The rest of the day was a blur. Alphys insisted Asriel give her anime a shot, and began crying less than five minutes into the first episode (“There's _so much foreshadowing_ in the first OP! You just have no idea!” she'd cried out). After two episodes, she'd had to excuse herself to avoid spoiling the entire plot. Papyrus had a gauntlet of puzzles prepared throughout the castle (“It'll be just like old times!” he'd said with a laugh), and Undyne had demanded a sparring partner (she had nearly fully regained the use of her arms following the Peace Roller Incident, and Asriel felt it would have been rude to turn her down). And Papyrus (with Toriel and Asgore's guidance) had prepared the one of the richest dinners Asriel had ever eaten.

It was the best birthday he'd had in years.

Asriel went to bed exhausted, filled with food and the love of his friends and family. But still—he felt unsatisfied. His family, his friends—they all wanted so badly to be Frisk's family and friends as well. Toriel—Mom—always talked to him as if she were talking to two people. He hadn't had the heart to tell any of them. He hadn't had the heart to tell them he couldn't hear Frisk's voice anymore, or see them in his dreams.

He hadn't been able to since Zero's death.

He remembered losing control back then, remembered them screaming in his head, remembered feeling terrified that he was going to turn into _that thing_ again… After that, he wasn't surprised that Frisk had lost faith in him.

He'd lost faith in himself, too.

He didn't even know if Frisk was still in there. If he were them, he would have left.

But still, before he went to bed, he cracked open the latest Laura Palmer book and started reading, just in case Frisk was listening. He gave up after fifty pages, snapped the book shut, and let it fall to the floor.

_If you're still in there, Frisk… You can see how much everyone still loves you… How much everyone misses you._

Asriel drew his covers over his head. _Please, Frisk… come back._

 –

“Please, Frisk… Come back!” Asriel stumbled through the dark. There was something wrapped around his legs, pulling him back, but he trudged onward. “I don't want these kinds of dreams anymore, Frisk… I want the nice ones we used to have…”

He stumbled—hit the stone floor hard—skinned his knees and paw pads. Whatever was tied around his legs started to pull him back. “No! Frisk, I wanna see you again!” He pulled himself forward with his elbows. “Don't you wanna see me again… _Y͞O͠U̷R͟ ̡BE͡S͘T F̵RIEN͢D̴…?”_

_No… That's not me…!_

The thing holding Asriel back let up for a second, and he took the chance to scramble to his feet and run. Images flashed behind his eye. A grinning death-mask ringed by golden petals. A nightmarish head with chattering teeth in sideways jaws. The DT extraction machine. A manic face on a buzzing, static-filled television screen.

Asriel felt his arm wrench behind him. It took all his strength to pull it away. A thick, thorn-covered vine scraped thin lines of blood around his forearm.

_No…_

Vines crawled over his arms, his legs, dragging him away. The stone floor was completely smooth, and his claws could find no purchase. _“_ _No, I'm not that thing! And… I—I never will be! Not ever again! I… I'm not_ them! _I'm…_ _a prince… I'm—_ _Prince Asriel Dreemurr!”_

_I͘'̕M̧͘ ̛͞T̡H҉E͜͟ ̵̕P̛͠R̡I̧͘N͝͠C҉̨E͝ ̷̢̛OF͡͝͞ T҉̢H̶͟I̡͞S͜ ͞͡W҉̕OR̨͏L͟D'̷̨͡S ̢͘FU͝TU̢͞RE͏_

The vines were choking him. Another vision invaded his head. Those same vines, wrapped around everyone he knew and cared about, draining their souls. Everyone was in pain.

_Not again… Not ever again…_

He could hear soft footsteps ahead of him and struggled to reach toward them. “Frisk… _help me…”_

Frisk was holding a single, guttering candle which barely illuminated their face. Their hands were trembling. In Asriel's dreams, Frisk had always grown up with him—grown to match their real body. But this Frisk was younger. As young as they'd been when they'd first met.

And Asriel could see, for the second time—no, the third time—no, countless times—the horror that had been written on their face when they had first seen _them._

 _“Please,_ Frisk…” he begged. “Please, remember _me…_ Not _them…”_

Frisk could barely look at him. They were too transfixed by what was behind him, lurking in the darkness. Asriel forced himself up. Frisk was so much smaller than him. “F—F—Flow—”

“No…” _Z̸̷͜҉̨ę̴̛͝r҉̢͟o̡̡̢͜, don't you remember me?_

Asriel fell to his knees. He couldn't resist the vines for much longer, and he shuddered to think of what would happen to him if he met their source. _It's only a dream, right? This is all just a bad dream…_

The vines jerked him onto his back, and Asriel caught a glimpse of the creature he'd been running from.

Frisk had been right to be afraid of it. Of… _him._

_This is all just a bad dream… A̶̷̕N̢D͘͝ ͡W҉̶͢E͜͏'͟R̵E̸͘ ̨N̵͟E̕VE͝͏R͏ ̵W҉̵Ą̛KI̷̛N͠G̷̶͠ U̡͡P̴͞  
_

Asriel pulled himself forward. _“_ Mom and Dad… Papyrus and Sans… Alphys and Undyne… If you stay here, in this dream—if _we_ stay here… they'll miss us both!”

Frisk's trembling hand reached out.

“They already miss you a lot… Your friends and family— _our_ friends and family—they love us both so much…”

Asriel reached out with his paw, but no matter how much he extended his arm, Frisk's never seemed to be any closer to his. “A-and… and I love you too!” he sobbed. “And I'm sorry I frightened you— I'm sorry I gave in— _I'm sorry I failed you!”_

Frisk's hand met his. They smiled. “Asriel…!”

The vines went slack, falling to the floor and uncoiling from Asriel's limbs. “Frisk…”

Frisk had returned to their true age. They were, once again, just a bit taller than Asriel. They wrapped their arms around the prince and hugged him.

“I'm glad you're still here, Frisk.” Asriel held Frisk closer. “I was really worried about you.”

“I shouldn't have left. I was really scared, and I'm sorry.” Was Frisk… _crying?_

“I can't blame you for that. You were just so stoic and level-headed, I guess… I figured if I did anything bad enough that you'd stop talking to me, I must not have deserved forgiveness.”

“When you gave in, I thought you'd never be free. Having Zero in my head was intolerable, but… I can't imagine anything worse than being a passenger in Flowey's body. I buried myself in your subconscious… because I was afraid I'd come back up and you'd be this horrible, evil… _thing._ And the longer I waited… the more afraid I was to check up on you.”

Asriel laughed. “So you're saying you missed our birthday party.”

“Was it a good one?”

“It was a _great_ one. And you got a lot of great stuff, too. There isn't any of Papyrus' cake left, though…”

 _“_ _Papyrus?_ How much spaghetti did he use?”

“None!”

“I don't believe you.”

Frisk's embrace tightened. Tears glittered on their cheeks. Hugs in dreams were ghostly, insubstantial; a real hug always felt like it could keep you warm for hours. In a dream, no matter how much emotion there was behind it, the feeling faded away within seconds. “This is kinda embarrassing, but… I don't want to let go.”

Asriel didn't want to let go either. He wouldn't mind if he never woke up.

It would be a shame if the best birthday he'd ever had ended so soon.


	13. Under the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Asriel spends some quality time in a cable car.

Asriel crept downstairs, wrapping his cloak around him. The King and Queen were entertaining a guest in their living room tonight, although the guest probably wasn't finding the evening very entertaining. Since they'd started discussing with world leaders in their own home—on their own turf—Asgore and Toriel had just about perfected their good-cop-bad-cop routine. Usually (unless their guest was a real piece of work), Toriel played the good cop. She pushed a saucer and floral-printed teacup into the guest's sweaty hands. “All I'm saying, Mr. Senator, is that I am somewhat… concerned about the bill you're pushing through your Congress. Mainly, that it will have a direct adverse effect on our subjects within your borders.”

Asriel hugged the wall and inched his way to the front door.

“Well, Queen Toriel, maybe you should stop thinking of them as your 'subjects'. The monsters living in my country are, after all, no longer citizens of your… kingdom.” The guest toyed with his cufflinks. His round, wire-rimmed glasses glinted atop his bulbous nose.

“In the absence of our ambassador, the task of caring for the safety of monsters abroad falls to us, Senator,” said Toriel.

“Oh, right, your 'ambassador'. The one who got herself killed in a plane crash?”

Asgore coughed loudly and thumped the butt end of his trident on the floor. Toriel glared daggers at the senator.

“Sorry. The one who got _them_ self killed in a plane crash."

Toriel collected herself. “From our perspective, this is clear and senseless prejudice. We're willing to give you a chance to work things out with us here, instead of dragging this affair into the public eye.”

“I'm sure the public would be happy to side with your nuclear-equipped micro-nation,” the Senator retorted icily.

“Oh, Asriel!” Toriel turned toward him and stood up from her chair. Asriel froze, caught in the act. “You're not sneaking out at _this_ hour, are you?”

“Oh, no, Mom—I just didn't want to interrupt your meeting. Tonight's the meteor shower, remember? I was gonna hang out a bit with Sans and…”

“Oh, that's right! You'll have to tell us all about it tomorrow morning.” She turned to the guest. “Senator Wretchidge, this is our child, Asriel. I don't believe you've met…?”

Asriel offered his paw to the guest. The guest shook it. “A pleasure to meet you, Asriel.” The man looked at him as if he were a piece of meat. “You're looking well.” The words came out as if the man had trouble believing them. It was the eyepatch. If Asriel had known he'd have to shake a VIP's hand tonight, he'd have worn the fancy one—even though it looked like a doily stuck over his eye.

“Same to you, Senator Wretchidge.” Asriel knew he'd heard the name before, but couldn't place it. He figured he must not be that great of a guy anyway if Toriel and Asgore were giving him a working-over.

 _“Future president_ Wretchidge,” the man corrected.

_Yikes._

“You have a very handsome… _boy?_ here, ma'am.” He looked Asriel up and down. Asriel smiled and nodded, as if to say, “yes, good job, you got my gender right,” only not in such an antagonistic way. He'd remembered where he'd heard Wretchidge's name before. He and Zero had butted heads numerous times, and in their most infamous altercation had called Zero a Communist, a Satanist, a couple other -ists, and a pervert, all in the same breath. You had to be a special kind of asshole to say something like that to a thirteen-year-old. If Zero hadn't been pretending to be the closest thing a human being could get to sainthood, the senator wouldn't have lasted much longer in his position.

And then the man opened his mouth and nearly started _another_ diplomatic incident, as if the meeting hadn't been going poorly enough already, and the part of Asriel that really didn't want this situation to escalate decided to intercede.

“You know, I grew up on a farm, and we had lots of go—”

“Good food, I bet,” Asriel interrupted. “I'm sure Mom would love to trade recipes with you! Well, I've gotta get going. Those meteors aren't gonna wait for me!” He pecked his mother and father on the cheek and headed toward the front door.

“Excuse us?” The bass growl of Asgore's voice sent ripples through his tea. “So, where were we?”

“Discussing your country's institutional xenophobia, if I recall,” Toriel added.

“T-this is all just, uh…” the senator dabbed at his brow. “T-these are trying times, you know, and people living in _my_ country whose, uh, _who_ …”

“Oh, Asriel?” Toriel called out as the door began to swing shut.

Asriel poked his head through. “Yes, Mom?”

“You've got your phone, right?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“And a flashlight?”

“My phone's got a flashlight, Mom.”

“And an… updog?”

“I'll take some pictures of the meteor shower for you, Mom!” The door hung open for a few seconds behind Asriel. “Love you!”

“Now, Senator…” Asgore stood up, allowing the tips of his horns to brush against the ceiling. The sitting room had been purposefully designed with a ceiling just low enough that Asgore could do this. In diplomacy, body language was the subtlest tool for intimidation, and Asgore wielded it like a brick. “Would you care for some more tea?”

Asriel walked through the courtyard. The air was cool and crisp; the aroma of dead leaves filled Asriel's nostrils. The night sky was perfectly free of clouds, and the last vestiges of the sunset had faded into black. There couldn't be a more perfect night for stargazing. Only the faintest sliver of the moon hung in the sky. In the first months above the ground, the phases of the moon had fascinated him more than anything else about the surface world.

Back in the old days, when it had been just him and Chara, he'd pestered the human child mercilessly with questions about the stars, the planets, the phases of the moon. Things he'd never seen, things his parents could barely remember enough about to describe them to him. The idea that there could be lights up there that twinkled, lights that moved, lights that _changed shape_ —it had fascinated him. They didn't have answers to most of his questions. Asriel had considered it payback for all the questions the child had heaped onto him.

Chara had never been the nicest person, and had only gotten meaner once they'd started going by “Zero”. But sometimes Asriel still missed the life they'd had before the two of them had died.

Asriel passed by a tall monster in a gray hooded cloak on the way out of the castle. He'd seen a few gray-cloaked citizens lately. It seemed like a pretty boring fashion trend, although even some members of the Royal Guard were starting to sport them. If Mettaton could see what monsters had started wearing since he'd gone on hiatus (ostensibly so he could have some very important work done on his body, but Asriel figured he _really_ just wanted to keep Alphys company while Undyne was away), he'd be retching. But the gray-cloaks seemed harmless if a little weird.

A sliding block puzzle stood between the city and the cable cars. Asriel, like most of New Home's denizens, had solved it in its many permutations (Papyrus redesigned the puzzle every Tuesday without fail) so many times that he could solve it in his sleep. In fact, he would solve it even more easily if he _were_ asleep, considering how much better Frisk was at puzzles than he was.

An empty car pulled into the station just a few minutes later. Riding the cable cars had never been a very enjoyable experience for him, even after Asgore had, after dozens of complaints, axed the speakers piping in muzak. Asriel took the car and waited for it to begin its wire-guided ascent to the summit. There was a small settlement of monsters there: mostly former inhabitants of Snowdin who preferred the cold year-round (Asgore had nearly named it “Snowdin II”, but ended up settling on a compromise with Toriel and naming it “Snowdout”). Asriel drew his cloak around himself, knowing he was going to need it.

 _Do you know how aerial tramways work, Azzy? We've got three steel cables holding this car up. Steel is pretty strong,_ _isn't it_ _?_

Zero's phantom voice filled his head. The cars didn't move very quickly, but at these high altitudes, the wind whistled around them nonetheless.

_But if two of those cables get crossed, they could sever each other and send the whole car down. It's happened once before, you know. I read about it. The car fell over 600 feet and was crushed by its own carriage assembly._

Zero had always delighted in telling Asriel macabre stories about cable cars. Especially when the two of them were riding in one.

_Forty-three people died._

It was the only way up the mountain, unless you were prepared to spend a few hours hiking to the summit.

_The only survivor was a fourteen-year-old girl._

Asriel hated riding the cable cars. Hated it. He never rode them alone, unless he had to. And never at night. Why was he doing this now?

_So hey, if it happens to us right now, maybe one of us will live._

He could hear the howling of the wind, the creaking of wheels on steel. The constant reminders that beneath the carpeting and thin skin of metal beneath his paws was a sheer drop. The brave Prince Asriel couldn't let himself be defeated by a rickety old ski lift, could he?

The car stopped.

Cable cars aren't supposed to stop halfway.

Asriel peered down out the window and immediately regretted it, even though it was too dark to see anything past the warm yellow lights of the carriage. He decided that this was one defeat he could live with, although, of course, now it was far too late to turn back. It's not that he was afraid of heights.

He was just afraid of these cars.

Asriel pulled out his phone. His parents were no doubt still putting the screws to the prime minister… Undyne was off training in the Guyana Highlands (“perfecting her newest Super Move,” she'd told Asriel)… but Papyrus and Sans would be happy to help. And Asriel knew they were both at Snowdout preparing for the meteor shower. He pulled Papyrus up in his contacts list.

The skeleton picked up after the first ring. He always did. “Hello, Young Majesty! You have reached the great Papyrus! What brings you to my humble phone?”

“Hi, Papyrus. C-can you help me out a bit here?”

“I'd be delighted to lend you my expertise! Are you vexed by one of my puzzles?”

“N-not really, I'm—I was taking the cable car up to Snowdout, and, but it—”

The phone let out an ear-piercing squeal, a digital scream he'd heard before. The phone clattered to the floor. Asriel could faintly hear a voice that was definitely not Papyrus' on the other end.

He picked up the phone. Just like the last time, its battery was fried. Asriel swore under his breath. Then, realizing that it made him feel just a little bit better, swore again, a little louder this time. So that was why people did it.

Asriel paced across the little cable car. He tried to take a deep breath, but couldn't fill his lungs up enough before they expelled what little air they'd collected.

_Everything's gonna be okay. Everything's gonna be okay. Everything's…_

The lights went out.

 _I'm gonna die halfway_ _up_ _this mountain._

Asriel conjured a weak yellow flame with a snap of his fingers. It went out within a second, and he couldn't make it again. All he could manage were a few sparks flying out from between his paw pads.

Asriel grabbed the door handle. The door slid open, inviting a chilly wind into the car. Maybe the drop wasn't as far as he thought… Maybe he could do something to slow his descent.

He leaned out. The cold air caught in his throat. There was no way in hell he was going to jump into that black abyss.

The car swayed again. Asriel slipped, his legs dangling out in the open air. He twisted around and dug his claws into the carpet. The metal railing cut into his chest. As his legs reflexively kicked against thin air, scrabbling for purchase, Asriel felt the earth pulling him down.

Zero was one thing. Gravity was another.

_I'm gonna die here._

He wondered which would give out first, the carpet or his claws.

_I'm gonna miss the meteor shower._

Tears stung his eyes.

 _I'm gonna miss breakfast tomorrow. And lunch_ _tomorrow_ _. And dinner_ _tomorrow._ _And all the rest of them, forever._

Asriel had sort of just assumed that once you'd had enough near-death experiences, you started getting used to them.

 _Maybe I just need a few more under my belt._ He laughed in spite of himself. _If I live through this one._

_Don't give up. You're going to live._

“Frisk…” Why did their voice only reach his ears when he _needed_ to hear it?

_Don't focus on your legs. Put all your strength into your arms. You can pull yourself up._

Asriel quelled his instincts and let his legs go limp. Slowly, he began to crawl his way back into the car, pulling himself up inch by inch. Agonizing minutes passed by, but eventually, he could feel the carpet beneath his toes.

_Sit down, chill out. You can count on Papyrus._

Asriel panted with exhaustion. At the very least, he could breathe again. “I've really let myself go, haven't I? Undyne could've done this with one hand…”

_Don't sweat it. You're a lover, not a fighter._

“Pretty sure Undyne is both.” Asriel laughed. “Man, Alphys is probably really lonely right now.”

_We should visit her._

“We've still got like five episodes of that show left.”

Asriel glanced out the window. The stars were falling. He'd never seen a meteor shower before. Normally, the only lights in the sky that moved were planets, or planes, or satellites. “There they go. And us without our phone… I should've walked up the mountain tonight.”

_Hey, maybe we can get a helicopter for our sweet sixteen._

Asriel laughed. “A helicopter?”

_The goatcopter!_

Asriel snickered. “I'm not letting you name it 'the goatcopter'!”

_Most rich kids just ask for cars._

There was a bump on the hood of the car, followed by a few more bumps. “Are you talking to yourself, Prince Asriel?”

Asriel yelped. But it was only Papyrus. The skeleton had removed his red gloves, rapping his bony knuckles on the front window as he hung, upside-down, from the roof. “Oh, you must be talking to Frisk! Tell them a certain dashing, devil-may-care skeleton says hello!”

“Frisk, Sans says hello.”

“I may be your loyal steward, but do not test my patience, Young Lord!” Papyrus scuttled crablike across the side of the car and in through the open door. “When I saw that your car did not arrive in the station, I called one of the castle guards to check their end! That was how I figured out that your car had stopped during its journey!”

“Yeah, I was just about to tell you before my phone—”

“And so I climbed the cable all the way down here! I'm sorry I took so long—you must have been very frightened in my absence!” Papyrus patted him on the shoulder. “But I am here now, and I promise that your feet will feel solid ground again!”

“How are we going to get up from here?”

“Get up? Why, that's the easy part!” Papyrus stuck two fingers between his teeth and whistled. The shrill shriek made Asriel's ear buzz. An equally shrill voice pierced the cold air.

 _“_ _TEM is… REOPRTING 4 DUTY!”_

A Temmie was vibrating just at eye level outside the cable car.

Papyrus bowed deeply and gestured to the… dogcat? catdog? thing? Asriel had lived among Temmies all his life and _still_ didn't quite know what they were.

The Temmie floated into the car, looking Asriel up and down with its black button eyes. Its gaze was unnerving. Its open mouth revealed rows of sharp teeth. _“oMG prince of monsters… so… so… BISHIE_ _x_x_ _!!!”_ It rolled over and floated up to the ceiling, where it stayed there, still vibrating.

Asriel and Papyrus looked up. “I think our escape plan just fainted, Papyrus.”

“Never fear, my lord! Every escape plan worth its salt has a backup plan!” Papyrus pulled out a battered old two-way radio. “Sans!” he barked. “Ready 'Operation Bullock'! Over.” He paused. “No, you're thinking of 'Attack Pattern Clooney', Sans. Also, you're supposed to say 'over' when you're done speaking.” There was some more chatter on the other end. _“You're_ the one who named all these maneuvers, Sans. Yes, I _know_ you'd have a better chance of remembering them if I hadn't vetoed all your terrible puns. But I have to say these names too, you know, and I'd rather preserve what little dignity I have left! Radio me when you're in position. Over.”

Papyrus put the radio away and sat down. “We're probably going to be here for a while.” Asriel sat down in the corner of the car next to Papyrus. “So, um, Prince Asriel… Captain Undyne told me about the fight you had with Zero. Is, er, _that_ why you stopped training?”

“What?”

Papyrus made a little motion with his hand. “You know, _that.”_

 _That._ “Well, uh, I mean, Zero's dead. It's not like I need to fight anyone anymore. So… Why keep learning how to fight?” Asriel said with a shrug.

“…Are you afraid, Prince Asriel?”

Afraid? Yes, of course he was afraid. He was stuck in a metal death trap maybe a mile above his own castle waiting for Papyrus' Plan B. “I mean, we're p-pretty high up, and…”

“I mean of fighting.” Papyrus patted him on the shoulder.

“Is that what Undyne told you?”

“Was she wrong?”

Asriel looked down. “I guess not.”

“It's okay. Very few people know what it's like to have the power you possess. It would terrify anybody. Even I, as mature and responsible as I am, would be reasonably frightened by the…”

“I get it, Papyrus. What's this about?”

“Prince Asriel. Everybody has good and evil inside them, human or monster. The fact that you are afraid, My Lordship, is all the proof you need that you will always be—”

The radio tucked into Papyrus' body armor squawked. _“I'm in position, Paps.”_

Papyrus picked up the radio and spoke into it. “You forgot to say 'over'. Over.”

 _“_ _I'm in position. Over.”_

Papyrus turned his head toward Asriel and rattled off what was left of his inspirational speech. _“The fact that you are afraid, My Lordship, is all the proof you need that you will always be a good—”_

 _“_ _Are we doing this or what, Paps? Over.”_

Papyrus addressed the radio. “All right, Sans, pull us up!”

An eerie blue light crept around the cable car. Asriel felt the edges of his cloak lift up in defiance of gravity.

“Grab onto your seat,” Papyrus warned him.

“Why?” Asriel asked as his pendant caught itself on his snout.

“Sans is turning our gravity upside-down.”

Asriel nearly said something, but was stopped by the impact of his head on the ceiling. He saw stars. Papyrus looked up (down?) at him from his seat, clinging on with a white-knuckle (even more so than usual) grip.

Papyrus clung to the radio. “Now, Sans! Cut the cable! Over!”

 _Cut the cable…?_ “Paps, is this really a good ideaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA _AAAAAAAAAAAAA_ _”_

Asriel screamed all the way up to the summit as the cable car quickly reached terminal velocity, then slowed to a halt, gently floating to rest at the gate to Snowdout. Sans had his tiny arms raised in the air, his eyes squeezed shut. His bony brow was covered in sweat. A cadre of adult humans in thick, furry parkas cheered him on, clapping and hooting as Asriel and Papyrus stumbled out of the car.

Asriel could feel the entire world spinning around him. The air whistling over the summit was freezing. He barely overheard Sans saying, “Whoa. I can't believe that actually worked.”

“What are you talking about, Sans? We've practiced that move a hundred times!”

“Yeah… but we've never practiced it in these, uh, circumstances.”

“Sans! If I'd known you were _drunk_ I would have immediately gone for Plan C!”

Asriel rubbed the tender bruise erupting on the top of his head. “…There was a plan C? What was it?”

“I was going to carry you all the way back to the castle on my back.”

Sans led Asriel into town. “When you're done seeing stars, kiddo, there's some beautiful ones out tonight you've been missing.”

“Sorry I missed the meteor shower.”

“Hey, car troubles happen.”

The town square was decked out for Christmas already—a massive fir tree towered above the houses, its evergreen tips frosted by a light dusting of snow and wreaths of tinsel.

“They've had that up since Halloween,” Sans said with a sad, slow shake of his head.

Sans' cohorts huddled around him. “Who're your friends, Sans?” Asriel asked.

“These guys? They're the physics department. There's Dr. Kepler—astrophysics—Dr. Walder—his specialty is fluid dynamics—Dr. Kamiki—practical quantum physics—Dr. Korsov— _im_ practical quantum physics—Dr. Patel couldn't make it this year…”

Sans gestured to the ground. The thin coating of snow covering the grass had been trampled and pushed around, revealing large patches of dark green. “…And this is where we watched the meteors. And tried to make snow angels.”

Everyone took their places on the ground. _Somebody should have invited Napstablook,_ Frisk joked to Asriel. Asriel wasn't familiar with the name. They must have been one of Frisk's friends.

“So, Jeff,” Sans said to Dr. Kepler, “what was that plan of yours again?”

“Oh, yes, Spaceship Earth. I worked it out during my free time last week. So, you see, the sun is going to explode—”

“The _sun_ is going to explode?” Asriel asked. Why hadn't this been in the news?

“Yes, yes, in five billion years, Your Highness. Now, as I was saying, the sun is going to explode and cook the planet, but I have an escape plan!”

“None of us are gonna be here in five billion years,” Asriel pointed out.

“Yes, but God willing, _some_ body will. So, there is enough hydrogen on this planet—and on the moon—that we could use it to power massive fusion engines ringed around the Earth's equator—that could, ah, propel the planet at up to 90% the speed of light! And then we just… sail our planet into orbit around a young, sexy, habitable star.”

“Was that middle adjective _really_ necessary, Jeff?” one of the other professors asked.

“In his defense, stars are pretty hot,” Sans butted in.

“Jeff, what was that mysterious signal you picked up the other day?”

“A pigeon pooped on the radio telescope,” Dr. Kepler admitted, crestfallen.

“So you're a prince, huh,” one of the professors asked Asriel.

“Yeah.”

“Don't see many of those around anymore.”

“Yeah.”

“Have you ever considered, instead of a bourgeois monarchy, perhaps a dictatorship of the proletariat?”

Sans nudged the professor. “Hey, Steve. No politics with the kid. He's fifteen.”

“I was extremely politically active when I was fifteen. Say, young boy, I've got some excellent reading material for you…”

Sans hauled Steve up to his feet and led him away. “I think you've hit your drink limit, pal. C'mon, I've got a room reserved for you at the inn…”

“Sorry about Steve,” one of the other professors—Dr. Walder—told Asriel. “He's really zealous. Don't pay him any mind. Besides, clearly the ideal economic system is a form of market socialism.”

“I thought you guys were physicists.”

“Even physicists need hobbies.”

Asriel stared up at the stars. He'd never seen such clear skies before. The entire sky, from horizon to horizon, was awash with thousands, millions of pricks of light. He could pick out Polaris, Orion's Belt, and quite a few more of the constellations he'd studied. And yet, he was still underwhelmed. The photos from Hubble were much more mesmerizing.

“We might live up there someday,” the professor mused. “Well, your people, maybe. If anyone can live in space, it would probably be you guys. I mean, you're not made of normal matter like us, right? Is that racist? I'm sorry if it's racist.”

Asriel shrugged. It took two thousand years for monsterkind to return to the surface. For now, Earth was enough. But he didn't want to seem rude. “I think you guys'll make it, too. Eventually. Maybe once you guys get that perfect economic system set up.”

The professor laughed. “Eventually.”

Asriel thought about the cartoons he'd watched with Undyne while he'd been recuperating from his injuries after the incident at the opera. “Maybe you'll have space colonies. And giant robots.”

Walder laughed. “I mean, otherwise, what would the point be?”

The pricks of light in the sky started to blur together. Asriel yawned.

 _Ask Dr. Walder how hard it would be for a member of a royal family who's been homeschooled his whole life to get into the physics program,_ Frisk told him.

_Why?_

_I like these people. I wanna go to school with them. You'd like astrophysics too, wouldn't you?  
_

Asriel liked space, yes, but as soon as his mother had started showing him math with letters in it he'd started to lose interest in arithmetic. _Trust me, Frisk. By the time you're old enough to go to college, I'll have gotten your body back,_ _and you can go to whatever school you want yourself_ _._

_We kinda cremated it._

_You know what I mean. I'll have Alphys make a robot body for you, or grow a clone body out of a petri dish._

_Well, where do_ you _wanna go to college, Asriel?_

_I dunno._

“Asriel?”

_You gotta start planning now._

_I'm royalty. Why would I need college?_

“Hey, Asriel.”

_Well, one, it would make Mom very happy. Two, as a world leader it would behoove you to at least minor in political science…_

_But I don't want hooves,_ Asriel told Frisk, prompting a ghostly psychic laugh from the human mind.

Someone shook his shoulders. It was Sans. “Hey, buddy. You kinda nodded off there for a bit.”

Asriel picked himself up and looked around. The clearing was starting to empty out. A few blue-black wisps of clouds had begun to blot out the stars over in the west. “Yeah, I guess I did…”

“It's really late, and the cable car's broken, so you can stay at our place tonight. Paps and I'll bring you back down tomorrow morning.”

“Mom and Dad…”

“Taken care of. Texted the two of 'em just a minute ago. Now come on and get some sleep. It's been a long night.”

 – 

Asgore heard a buzzing on the dining room table. It was Toriel's phone. He looked around and, seeing no sign of his wife in the immediate vicinity, tapped on the phone to view the message in her stead.

“Uh, Tori… There's a message from Sans on your phone,” he called out. “Does the phrase,” he furrowed his brow, “'As rail id wrath me and Pat virus cube 2 marrow' mean anything to you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the members of the physics department at my university actually came up with the plan mentioned in this chapter and held a brief lecture on it. He'd done all the math, and apparently it was quite feasible, albeit dangerous. I can't say exactly what would happen when a planet moving at 90% C collides with something, but I'd imagine it would be bad for everybody involved.
> 
> The professor passed away during my senior year, and I choose to honor his legacy by bringing up this idea whenever I get the chance. It's an excellent topic for discussion at parties.


	14. Dreams of Fire and Dust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Asriel and Frisk fall victim to pranks and nightmares.

The house Sans led Asriel to was a dilapidated old cottage. How it could be _old_ when this settlement had only existed for less than three years was beyond Asriel. Maybe an exceptionally brave (and most likely exceptionally lonely) human had lived here on this mountain long ago. “I thought you guys lived in Grasslands,” Asriel said as Sans creaked open the door.

“This is our winter home. Well, really, it's more of an outpost.”

Asriel peered inside. It was dark. “As long as it isn't an out _house.”_

Sans chuckled. “Well, it hasn't got indoor plumbing, if that's what you're getting at.”

 _I think we've just been dunked on,_ _Asriel_ _,_ Frisk told him.

Sans flipped the light switch. A yellowy light from a single bare light bulb illuminated the run-down shack's interior, casting long shadows over the threadbare couch, the dusty coffee table covered with ragged notebooks and dog-eared physics textbooks. There was a workbench in the corner, a ramshackle computer with some odd-looking hardware and a lumpy white tarp sitting on top of it.

“Is this where you grade all your students' homework?”

“Nah, my TA's do all that.”

“What _do_ you do for your students?”

Sans shrugged, hanging his jacket up next to the door. “Offer career advice, mostly in the form of knock-knock jokes.”

“No offense, Sans, but you sound like a pretty lousy teacher.”

“My reviews on ratemyprofessor dot com say otherwise.”

(Asriel checked them out later and saw that Sans was telling the truth: despite never lecturing on his own, grading his own assignments, or holding sensible office hours, most of his students seemed to adore him.)

Asriel picked up a loose sheet of paper from the coffee table. It was a page from Sans' midterm exam. There were only two questions on it, but both used mathematical symbols he'd never even seen before. Both questions were filled with puns. The student's scribblings beneath it might as well have been ancient Sumerian cuneiform as far as Asriel was concerned. Sure, he knew all about that math with the letters in it, but what were the swirly bits for? It looked more like some sort of strange alchemy than any mathematics Asriel had encountered. Sans had awarded the student eighteen out of twenty points for both questions, writing in the margins that the student's answer was “Feynman”. “What's this doing here, then?”

“Oh, that?” Sans pulled it out of his hands. “Well, okay, I do _some_ grading here. Did you get the joke?” He pointed to the note he'd scribbled on the page. “The kid did _fine, man.”_

Asriel flopped onto the couch. “Well, I guess I'll sleep here tonight. You'll sleep, uh…” He looked around. “Where are you gonna sleep?”

Sans gestured to the door at the other end of the room. “Actually, there's a bedroom right in there, but if you've got your heart set on my lice-ridden couch, be my guest.”

Asriel jumped up. He felt as if every bit of fur on his body was standing on end. _“Lice-ridden!?”_ he yelped. “W-why don't you get that taken care of?”

Sans pointed to his shiny dome and tapped against it, producing a dull, hollow ringing. “Not a problem.”

“For you, maybe!” Asriel frantically brushed himself off. “I think I'll stay at the inn tonight, if you don't mind.” He fumed. If he had to shave his fur because of this… he'd look ridiculous.

“The inn isn't secure. This place, I've got all wired up. No one gets in or out without my say-so. Besides, the couch is fine. You can take the bed, though.”

_We just got double dunked, Asriel._

Asriel walked by the tarp-covered workbench. Something caught his eye, drew it downward. Some sort of viscous white liquid was dripping onto the floor from whatever was under the tarp. He reached out to the tarp. Maybe it was just his imagination, but as his paw crept closer to the tarp, he could feel a rhythmic pulse in the back of his head thumping louder and louder in a heartbeat pattern. “Uh, Sans, I think whatever you got under here might be leaking…?”

Suddenly, Asriel noticed that he was about a foot further away from the bench, with his paw on the bedroom doorknob. And he felt very, _very_ dizzy. His legs wobbled as the shack spun around him, and even the soft light of the single lightbulb overhead was enough to make his head throb.

“You okay there, kid?” Sans helped him into the bedroom. The darkness of the room was a welcome respite for his eye. “You just sorta blanked out on me for a second. That's twice tonight. Look, you've been through a lot today, you'd better take it easy.”

“I mean, yeah, I did almost die and everything. Thanks, Sans,” Asriel mumbled as he fell face-first into the bed and sank into the surprisingly soft flannel sheets. Sans was right. He _was_ tired.

Tired, and also _very_ curious about what that skeleton was keeping under that tarp. But there was little he could do about the latter while the former had to be dealt with and he had a snoutful of pillow. The musty smell of a bed that hadn't been slept on in years filled his mouth and nostrils.

“Sleep tight, don't let the bedbugs bite.” Sans closed the door, then opened it again. “And I'm not just saying that. But don't worry, I've got 'em very well trained.”

_How many slam dunks can a man score in one game, Asriel?_

 – 

Asriel and Frisk were helping Toriel in the kitchen. It was well into the afternoon in early December; the shadows were already starting to grow long, and evening sunbeams poured through the window. Toriel had a delicious-smelling soup stock bubbling away in a large pot on the immaculately-cleaned stovetop, while Asriel and Frisk chopped vegetables and cubed potatoes under her watchful gaze. _This is a nice dream,_ he thought.

“Careful, my child.” Toriel stayed Frisk's hand. “Always cut _away_ from yourself, and be very careful with your fingers. You wouldn't want to _cut_ your budding piano career short, would you?” She giggled.

Piano. _Mom had always wanted Chara to learn the piano…_

The silvery knife in Frisk's hand undulated hypnotically under Toriel's guiding paw, glinting between the motes of dust illuminated by the rays of sunshine filling the room.

_Rays of sunshine like the muted, twilight rays that poured through the Barrier and into the golden hall. Frisk was holding a knife and covered in blood. Their own. Monsters didn't have blood. Well, some of them did, but it turned into dust with the rest of their bodies when they died. The blood that stuck, that was theirs._

Something about the idea of Frisk having a knife filled Asriel with unease.

Frisk finished the potatoes and slid them off the cutting board into the soup. Asriel did the same with his board full of chopped celery and carrots. “Very good, Frisk. Now, next we need some finely-minced buttercups…”

 _The halls were empty. The castle was empty. The city was empty. Everywhere was empty. The hard claps of Frisk's shoes on the tiled floor echoed endlessly._ One left.

_Well, two, if they counted the flower planted in front of them._

Didn't she remember how poisonous those flowers were? But he had already pulled a bouquet of them out of the drawer and laid them on his own cutting board. They all had faces.

His face.

_“I waited for you, Chara. All this time, I never gave up. I never lost faith. I knew you'd come back! Now, how 'bout a smile, like in the good ol' days?”_

The flowers stared up at him with pleading eyes.

“I can do this for you,” Frisk told him, sliding his cutting board away from him. They started chopping, starting from the bottom of the stems and working their way up. The flowers kept looking at Asriel with plaintive, silent wails.

_Frisk laughed. It hurt. The tiny skeleton had done a number on them. A normal human child wouldn't be long for this world. But Frisk hadn't been human for a while. “Chara. You keep calling me that.”_

_Flowey raised an eyebrow. “Well, uh, it's your name. R-right?”_

Toriel set another bunch of celery and carrots onto a cutting board for Asriel. “This is your father's favorite soup, children. He will be so pleased when he returns from the summit this evening.”

_“Well, yeah, but tell me, Flowey, when I kill the King, how many monsters will be left in the underground?”_

“Why didn't you go with him, Mom?” Frisk asked. “We all know you're the brains behind the throne.”

 _“N-none…?” Flowey's leaves drooped. Some of the shine had gone out of his petals._   _“Nada? Zilch? Bupkis?” He let out a nervous little laugh. “Zero?”_

_“That's my new name.” Frisk's ear-to-ear smile made their molars hurt.  
_

Toriel laughed in spite of herself and hid her smile behind her paw. “Now, Frisk, that's no way to talk about your father… And besides, only one of us would fit on the plane. Your father elected to go in my stead because he… feared the other delegates would not be safe around me.”

Frisk reached the flowers' petals and kept going, cutting the legion of Asriel faces into thin white slivers. Their faces all contorted in agony, but produced no noise (plants can't talk, dummy). Toriel nodded in approval. Asriel set to work chopping veggies again, but found it remarkably difficult to focus on his own task.

_Frisk knelt down and reached out for the animated flower. Flowey flinched and recoiled. “You are a funny one, aren't you?” they asked him. They pinched at the base of Flowey's stem, where he sprouted from between a gap in the tiles, and began to tug._

_“Uh, Chara? Zero?” Flowey wriggled around. “W-whaddaya doing? T-t-th-this isn't f-f-funny!”  
_

_Frisk shook their head and shrugged.“Looks pretty funny to me.”_

Asriel pulled his eye away from Frisk's work just in time to see his own knife swing down toward his fingers. The blade stuck on the bones of the three longest fingers on his left paw just short of the second knuckles; blood streamed from the lacerated flesh, staining his fur and the wooden cutting board, dripping onto the green ceramic tiles of the kitchen floor. His exposed nerves screamed. So did he.

“Oh, my poor child!” Toriel wrenched the knife away from him and started wrapping thick gauze around his paw. It didn't hurt as much when she pulled the knife out, but that didn't stop him from screaming until all the air had left his lungs. Blossoming red stains quickly colored the bandages scarlet even as Toriel continued to wrap more and more around the wound. “I am so, _so_ sorry, Asriel, I should never have taken my eyes off you…”

_Flowey screeched, his naked roots dangling in the open air. “WHY!?”_

_Frisk started walking again. “I'm gonna make you watch your dad die.”_

_“Pfft. You think that big oaf means anything to me anymore?”_

_“No. But I think it'll be hilarious. Don't you agree?”  
_

_“Y-you know, I can just watch on my own…”_

Frisk kept chopping, oblivious to Asriel's accident.

_The King was dead. He'd taken one look at Frisk and whatever will he'd had to fight had left his body. The seven glass cylinders, all but one containing an orb of colored light, surrounded the pile of gray dust which had once been the strongest monster of them all. Ahead, the Barrier pulled in rhythmic patterns of black and white._

_Flowey looked up at Frisk. “So, that's your ticket home. So, what's our plan once we reach the surface? Go for the humans next?”_

_Frisk looked down. “'We'?”_

Toriel gently patted Asriel's bandages. “There, there… you will be all right. Everything will be okay, my son…” The pain had already started to fade away to a dull throbbing. He felt lightheaded. Was he in shock? “Hang in there… I will bring you to Doctor Alphys right away… she'll stitch you up and you will be as good as new…”

_“'Zero, c'mon. Partners in crime, remember?”  
_

_Frisk reached out with their free hand. “You really loved me, didn't you?” Flowey leaned away from Frisk's fingers, but was too slow, and one golden petal came away in the child's hand._

Asriel squinted through the window behind his mother's head. Had the sun always been so bright…?

_“They loved you…” Pluck. “They loved you not…” Pluck. “They loved you…” Pluck. “They loved you not…” Pluck.  
_

Noticing his discomfort, Toriel turned to the window and reached for the blinds. “Is the sun in your eyes? Let me get that for you…”

_“I'll do whatever you want!” Flowey howled. “I'll be your right-hand man! I'll turn the plants and trees themselves against humanity!”_

_Pluck. “They loved you not…”  
_

_“I'll be your_ slave, _Zero!”_

Toriel started to draw the blinds shut, but stopped. Her hand froze. The breath caught in her throat. Her eyes widened in horror, and in one fluid motion she grabbed Frisk by the back of their neck and whisked them to the floor next to Asriel. She knelt down over the children as the kitchen wall burst inward, showering everyone with chips of wood, stone, and ceramic. The shreds of pastel green wallpaper and oak molding instantly burst into flames as a wall of fire swept through the room. The air was shimmering like the heat over an asphalt road in the middle of summer. The water in the air was boiling away. Asriel could briefly see more fear reflected on her face than he'd ever seen before before his mother turned into a blackened silhouette against the blinding white light and flew apart like dead, dry leaves. Her skull was the last thing to fade into dust, pools of killing light expanding behind its cavernous eye sockets as the nuclear fire ate through it back-to-front.

 _Pluck. Another yellow-gold petal fluttered to the ground, joining its brothers at Frisk's feet, and Flowey the Flower finally withered and died, one last plea for mercy hanging in the still air._ _His_ _face had vanished for good, leaving behind nothing but the shriveled, gray-brown corpse of a_ _n ordinary_ _flower. The Underground was truly empty.  
_

_“Well, would you look at that. They loved you after all, Flowey.”_

Frisk slowly rose to their feet, stepping toward the burning sky, struggling against the howling wind blowing through the destroyed kitchen. The cloud of fire in the distance formed a halo behind their head. They turned around, offering a helping hand to Asriel, a gradually widening smile tearing their face apart as thick black ichor dripped from the gaps between their teeth and the empty holes that once had been their eyes.

_“C͢o̶m̛͏ę, ͡A͢s̵̴͜ri̛el̛̕͟.̴ ̧L̴҉et̛͟ ̷m̴͏e ͢sh͡͝o͝w̶̡ y̴o̷̷u͟͠ ̕͜f̢҉e̵a̵͝r ̧̡͠i̶n̷͝͞ ̧͜a͢ ha̡n̡d͜f̵u̶̧l̨ ̧ǫ̵͢f d̨us͢t.”_

 – 

Asriel woke up screaming. His claws had torn gashes in the bedsheets. He took a deep breath. _“WHAT THE HELL, FRISK!?”_

He could hear Frisk's voice in his head, but they weren't talking to him. Instead they were repeating in a near-inaudible whisper,  _That isn't me… That isn't me… That isn't me…_

Sans appeared in the room without opening the door, as he often did, and held Asriel down by his shoulders. Asriel's arms and legs thrashed around on their own until Sans could pin them in place with his blue magic. “Settle down, kid!”

 _“_ _Where is everyone? Are they okay? Are they safe?”_ Asriel's breath hissed in and out through gritted teeth. His every word scraped its way up his throat. The light of the nuclear fire still burned in his eye.

“'Safe'? What are you—”

 _“_ _ARE THEY SAFE, SANS!?”_

“Yeah, yeah, everyone's okay! Why wouldn't they be?”

“…We weren't attacked?” he croaked. The prince's breathing gradually slowed.

“Attacked? No…”

“There was… fire and… And…”

Sans lightened the pressure on Asriel's limbs as his legs stopped their futile attempts at kicking him. “You had a bad dream, kiddo. A nightmare.” He patted Asriel's shoulders tenderly. “Just a bad dream.”

“I-I-I don't get nightmares,” he stammered in protest. _“We_ don't.”

Sans shrugged. “Apparently, you do. And boy, was it a doozy.” He walked over to the bedroom door and cracked it open. “Hang on, I've got some Nice Cream bars in the minifridge. That'll cheer you up.”

Sans was gone before Asriel could point out that, obviously, the treats would be melted if they'd been stuck in a fridge instead of a freezer. The skeleton came back with a limp, mushy vacuum-sealed bag covered in little dew-droplets of condensation. “I didn't think this through, did I?”

Asriel snorted with laughter in spite of himself.

“See, told you it would work. Can I get you some water?”

“You said this place didn't have indoor plumbing.”

Another shrug. “Thoroughly japed again by the great Sans.”

The door to the shack swung open. Papyrus' concerned shouting cut through the air. “I HEARD SCREAMING! IS EVERYTHING OKAY IN THERE?”

“We're fine, bro,” Sans called out. “The prince just had a bad dream, that's all.”

Papyrus elbowed past him to attend to the prince. “Make way, make way. Prince Asriel, is everything all right?”

Asriel felt the beat of his heart slow. “Yeah… I think I'm all right now.”

Papyrus crouched down beside him and gave him a spine-cracking hug. “Would it make you feel better to talk about your nightmare?”

“No, Papyrus, but thanks. I think I just need some water.”

“Right away, sir!” Papyrus hurried out of the bedroom.

“Get the water from the filter,” Sans told his brother. “The water from the tap sometimes comes out a little… brown.”

“For Pete's sake, Sans, you can take better care of your hovel than this.”

“It's rent controlled,” Sans called back.

“Look, Sans, if you keep neglecting your hovel, you won't get your security deposit back.” Papyrus came back with a glass of clear water and handed it to Asriel. “Your water, Your Majesty. Is there anything else we can do for you? A snack, perhaps? Some of my new award-winning pasta recipe? I call it 'Royal Rigatoni'! I wasn't sure about the alliteration at first because I thought it undermined the dish's gravitas…”

“It's a very _heavy_ recipe,” Sans interjected, prompting an exasperated exclamation from his brother.

“I'm fine.” Asriel pretended to yawn and made a big show out of stretching his arms. “I just need to get back to sleep, guys.”

“Oh, all right.” Papyrus looked a little dejected. “I'll have to share my groundbreaking pasta innovation with you some other time. Well, if you need us, we'll be on the other side of this door. Won't we, Sans?”

“We sure will, Paps.” Sans followed his brother out of the room and slowly closed the door. “Holler if you need anything,” he told Asriel before the door creaked shut.

As darkness descended on the bed once more, Asriel carefully measured his breaths. Undyne had never been one for meditating, but she'd taught him a handful of breathing exercises during his training with her. But try as he might, his breath only came through in ragged gasps.

_Frisk?_

Silence.

_It's okay. The nightmare's over._

More silence.

 _Was this like the nightmares Zero gave you?_ Asriel's eye was starting to adjust to the darkness. He closed it.

_I don't want to talk about that._

“Okay.”

It was so hard to console a friend when all they were was a voice in your head. Asriel sat up and rolled out of bed.

_Asriel, what are you doing?_

Asriel opened the door, shielding his good eye against the light with one paw. The skeleton brothers looked surprised to see him up and about.

“Is there anything I can get for you, Your Highness?” Papyrus asked. “Have you reconsidered my offer for pasta?”

Asriel hadn't. “I just decided I wanted the couch tonight.”

The brothers did their best to make Asriel comfortable, grabbing the pillow and blanket from the bed in the next room. Papyrus tucked the blanket in so tightly against his neck he nearly gagged. “You know, Your Majesty, there was a time when even the great and mighty Papyrus was troubled by the occasional night terror.”

“Yes, the long-ago time of last week,” Sans added.

Papyrus ignored him. “And when that happened, do you know who was always there for me?”

Asriel shook his head.

“Why, Sans, of course. He would sing the most wonderful song for me, and I wouldn't have any nightmares for a week after that!” Papyrus turned to his brother.

Asriel looked up at Sans expectantly. “C'mon, man. Your future king needs you.”

“I'm, er, a little rusty, Paps. Don't quite have the chops anymore…”

“Why, Sans,” Papyrus said with a sly raise of his eyebrows. The ball was in _his_ court now. “It _was_ only a week ago…”

Sans stared at his brother, his mouth agape. His brother stared back at him. Asriel stared at both of them.

“Oh my god.”

“AT LONG LAST,” Papyrus shouted out, “THE DUNKER HAS BECOME THE DUNKEE!”

“Yep.” Sans stared down at the floor. “I guess I really made an _ass_ of myself here.”

“Profanity? In front of the boy? In front of _royalty?_ Really, Sans? Is _this_ what you've sunk to?”

Asriel couldn't help but laugh at least a little bit. Papyrus “got it” at the same time he did, and Asriel could almost see steam coming out of where his ears would have been.

“Is that the worst pun you could manage?” Papyrus said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Finally, I have put an end to your reign of terror!”

Sans clutched at his chest. “You really got me, Paps. Guess it's time for me to face the _music_. Change my _tune_. The only way for me to deal with this kind of humiliation is to… _burro_ my way back underground.”

“How could you, Sans?” Papyrus wailed. “In my moment of triumph? Asriel, you saw the pun he wrote on his student's test, right? Now _that_ was a pun! It was… _wordplay!_ It _sparkled_ on the page! And yet you squander your talents on… on _this!”_

Asriel couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed so hard. And it was real, mirthful laughter, not the bitter gallows-humor kind he'd somehow become accustomed to. Laughter like the tinkling of fireflies against the walls of a glass jar, or a moth against a naked lightbulb. It was the kind of laughter that eventually led to hiccuping, wheezing, and gasping for air.

But what lifted Asriel's spirits the most was that he could hear Frisk laughing along with him. He could still hear the sound of their laughter echoing in his head when he fell asleep on that ancient (hopefully not lice-infested for real) couch. It was a good sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who watched Terminator 2 at the tender age of 5 and was scarred for life by Sarah Connor's nuclear nightmare?


	15. The Gray Cloaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Toriel and Asgore pick a bad time to go on vacation.

The brothers woke Asriel up at the crack of dawn to bring him back down the mountain. Since the cable car's wires hadn't miraculously repaired themselves overnight, they took Papyrus' car down the winding road that twisted its way to Newest Home. He came home just in time for breakfast.

“Thank you so much for taking care of Asriel for the night,” Toriel told Papyrus and Sans after nearly cracking her son's spine. “But Sans, do try to be a bit more attentive with your text messages. It took Gorey and I fifteen minutes to decipher yours. And Asriel, how was the meteor shower?”

Asriel shrugged. “It had its ups and downs. My phone died before I could get any pictures, though.”

Toriel looked crestfallen. “Oh, well. Perhaps there will be another one soon. Papyrus, Sans, would you like to stay for breakfast? How do you two like your eggs?”

“Inside of the chicken, preferably,” Sans said.

“Sans, you fool! You cannot un-lay an egg!” Papyrus chided him.

Sans shrugged. “We'll see about that.”

Toriel pulled up two chairs for the brothers and began to set the table, laying down plates of bacon, eggs, sausage, toast…

“This is a little rich for my blood. Can I just get a bagel or something?” Sans asked.

Toriel heaped a pile of sausages onto his plate. “You do need to eat more, Sans. Why, I can see all your ribs!”

Sans glanced down with all the embarrassment of someone who'd just been told their fly was down. “No, you can't. I've got a shirt on.”

The Queen pulled her phone out from under her robes. “Excuse me, gentlemen. I appear to have received a 'tweet'.” Toriel's eyes brightened. “Several tweets!”

“Mom, you have a Twitter?”

“Of course I do. All public figures have them now. My 'twitter handle' is @TorielOfficial'.”

“Why not just '@Toriel'?”

 _“_ _Somebody_ took it first… and uses it to tweet nothing but puns about baking!”

Papyrus glared at his brother. “Sans! How could you tweet at the Queen in that manner?”

“If I have _tweeted_ you unfairly, Toriel, I sincerely apologize.”

Toriel stared into her phone, the excitement fading from her eyes. Her eggs, sunny-side up, grew cold on her plate. Her family and friends, who had dug into their breakfasts with gusto, gradually slowed and stopped eating as her foul mood permeated the air over the dining room table. The warmth which had percolated over the kitchen and dining room slowly trickled out.

“Mom, are you feeling o—”

Toriel exploded. “Listen to what he posted after our meeting! '@TorielOfficial lectured me 4 2 hrs on her 'humn rights' LOL, nice outdated anti-freedom govt system BTW #epicfail'? The nerve of that man! I am _this_ close to tweeting that Dickensian-named little proto-fascist…” she grumbled something unintelligible, “a very stern reply! And… What's this? A _meme?_ _”_

“A meme? You mean like one of those pictures of cats, with the funny words under them?” Asgore asked.

“I don't think she's talking about _those_ kinds of memes, King Asgore. There are memes out there that are much more… _meme_ spirited.” Sans couldn't resist the opportunity. Papyrus buried his face in his hands and screamed into his gloves.

Toriel, for a change, did not seem amused by the skeleton's awful pun. Asriel elbowed his mother in her side. “Eh? _Meme-_ spirited?” He caught a glimpse of what his mother was looking at. Somebody had replied to the politician's tweet with a very unflattering photo of her, captioned by some equally-unflattering words. No wonder her mood had soured. “Oh my god, I'm so sorry, Mom.”

“I am sorry, boys.” Toriel sighed. “I treat them like adults, they say we are weak, and make such horrid jokes about us. I treat them like children, they say we are 'elitists', and keep making jokes at our expense. I just do not understand these human politicians!”

“They aren't so bad, Tori. It's just a few bad apples, and the man we spoke to last night is by far the most rotten of the bunch.” Asgore patted her on the shoulder. “President Baker is very nice, isn't he? Although I'm not sure I'm comfortable with the way his First Lady keeps looking at me…”

Toriel continued scrolling on her phone, looking increasingly forlorn.

“Don't look at the comments, Mom.” Asriel patted her paw with his. “Just don't.”

She sighed wearily, setting the phone aside and taking Asriel's paw tightly in hers. “I think I need a vacation, boys.”

“You know, Your Ladyship,” Papyrus said, “public officials rarely manage their own social media accounts. Usually they have a team of public relations people—”

Toriel shot up. “That tweet took _multiple people_ to write!?” Asriel hadn't seen her so outraged in years.

“What I'm trying to say, Your Majesty,” Papyrus suggested as the Queen loomed over him, “is that perhaps you should have a trusted friend manage your Twitter account, so you don't have to deal with these kinds of base rapscallions…?”

Toriel sank to her chair, looking the picture of utter humiliation. Asriel gave her a little sympathy-hug, which she reciprocated (Asriel still had a lot of growing yet to do, and so her hug was still much bigger than his). “You are correct, Papyrus. I am sorry for ruining this breakfast, everybody.”

Asgore pulled out his own phone and began typing.

“Gorey, dear, please do not try to start anything on Twitter for my sake.” He kept typing. “I do not want the third Human-Monster War to begin over a Tweet…”

“'T'would be the tweet twought 'round the world,” Papyrus commented, rolling his R's in the most exquisite way.

“I am texting the President, Tori. Surely he wouldn't mind us borrowing his lakeside cabin for a week. Just the two of us, clear skies, fresh air, no internet…”

Toriel took a second to process what her husband was saying. “But winter is nearly upon us…”

“Eh, climate change. It's not gonna snow until mid-January,” Sans said.

Asgore ignored him. “We can go cross-country skiing! Just like you always wanted to!” His eyes sparkled.

“But… who will manage the kingdom while we're away…? And who will look after Asriel?”

Asriel felt a little offended. He was fifteen! He could spend a week by himself! “Aw, geez, I'm right here, Mom.”

“You know what I mean. Life can be very dangerous for royalty, and there have been several attempts on your life already…”

“Most of those were Zero. I don't think that counts as politically-motivated.”

“We will look after the prince, Your Majesty!” Papyrus shouted, pounding a fist into his open palm.

“Why don't we run the kingdom for them, too, while we're at it?” Sans grumbled through a mouthful of bacon.

“One, Sans, that's disgusting, and two, _yes!”_ Papyrus' eye sockets gleamed. “Take a week off, forget about the pressures of parentship and leaderhood! The Great Papyrus will keep everything under control!”

Toriel pondered the skeleton's offer with skeptical pursed lips.

“If there is anything they cannot handle, they can call on our advisors,” Asgore reassured his wife. He _really_ wanted this vacation to happen.

Toriel relented. “I accept your plan, Sir Papyrus.” Papyrus beamed. “But no _coups d'état_ while we are away, is that clear?” She wagged her finger at him.

 –

The Monster Kingdom had a small but significant human population; as part of an effort spearheaded by “Ambassador Frisk” and Toriel to improve human-monster relations, they had kept the borders of their kingdom relatively open and had encouraged human immigration. There were only a couple dozen humans living in the kingdom altogether, most of whom opted to live in the much more wide-open town of Grasslands, but a few families opted to live in Newest Home. When Asgore had learned that small ethnic enclaves in major human cities were sometimes labeled as “___town” and “Little ___”, he had been elated to find that humans could name things uncreatively as well, and had joyfully christened the tiny human-dominated neighborhood in the north wing of the city “Little Humantown”.

Overall, the monsters and humans got along quite well. For the most part, the kinds of humans who would choose to live among monsters were ones who saw no problems with co-existence. Occasionally there were small neighborly conflicts, but Captain Undyne ran a very tight ship and made sure that peace throughout the kingdom was maintained. And in Undyne's absence, Papyrus ran that ship. Of course, with the King and Queen on vacation, now Papyrus was running _two_ ships, each with a skeleton crew. Of course, things would be so much easier if he hadn't had to spend so much time searching around for…

“Sans!” Papyrus stomped down the streets of Little Humantown. “Sans, I know you're here! Jerry told me where to find you!”

Papyrus stopped at the intersection of Human Avenue and Human Lane (Asgore had run out of names). Quaint homes hewn from the stone of the mountain lined the roads like ornamented teeth. The air was wet and cold, the temperature hovering just above freezing. He frowned.

A familiar voice wafted from his left. _“Remember, a mystical energy force binds all living things. Size matters not. There is no try.”_

Sans was crouched down next to a battered blue van, whispering words of encouragement. Papyrus crept toward him. “Sans! Why are you talking to this car?”

Sans tumbled over. “Oh, hey, Papyrus. Well, you see,” he said, tapping on the car's door, “it's feeling a little blue…”

“Stop.” Papyrus cut Sans off with a wave of his hand. “Sans, running the kingdom _and_ looking after the prince takes two people. I can't have you lollygagging around with automobiles! Speaking of, where is Prince Asriel?”

Sans shrugged. “The boy's fifteen. He can take care of himself.”

A furry face streaked with grease popped out from underneath the van's chassis. “Hey, Papyrus!” Asriel said. His brow furrowed. “What are you wearing?”

Papyrus was, in fact, wearing an extravagant red cloak over his battle body. He had made it out of an unused carpet. When one was ruling a kingdom, one had to look the part, after all. Papyrus took one look at the prince and turned back to face his brother. “Sans. What is the prince of our kingdom doing underneath a car?”

“Trying to lift it,” Asriel answered.

“Trying to lift it,” Sans answered.

Papyrus looked back and forth between the two monsters. “Why?”

“To get stronger.” Asriel crawled out from under the car. “It was my idea.”

“I _may_ have helped him come up with it. Just a little bit.”

“So you _were_ watching Prince Asriel!” Papyrus beamed. “I'm very proud of you, Sans. All this time, I thought you were slacking off! But you were doing your job the whole time! I'm sorry for accusing you of skulduggery.” He crouched down beside Asriel, helping the prince up. “Prince Asriel, perhaps you should avoid strength training for now. You could strain something. Or even break something! And what would the humans think of seeing the successor of our kingdom running around in a dirty tank top and gym shorts?”

“Actually, there was a girl earlier today,” said Sans, “who told Asriel he was very cute.”

Asriel blushed. “It's true.”

“If only you had woken up earlier! Every morning at six I go up the mountain and meditate under the freezing waterfall for thirty minutes! You could have come with me!”

A look of horror passed over the prince's face as he contemplated the idea. “I—I don't think I'm at that level, Papyrus…”

Perhaps he had come on a little too strong. Papyrus pondered his approach for a brief moment. “Yes! Of course! You can't just start out meditating under freezing waterfalls! Try… hmm… meditating during your morning shower. And you can make it a little bit colder every day! Sans, you could do it too!”

“Sorry, but I think the whole thing would just give me… _cold feet.”_ Sans winked.

If the fruit his brother went after had hung any lower, it would be rotting on the ground. “I'd love to stick around, but the representatives from a very prominent international organization are arriving this evening, and I fully intend to wine and dine them into submission!” He twirled his cape with theatrical aplomb.

“Isn't that one of the carpets from Mom and Dad's old house?” Asriel asked.

“It is,” Papyrus admitted. “It just looked so royal…”

“Careful, Paps,” Sans cautioned him. “The King and Queen are gonna come back and think you're fixing to take over the place.”

“They both know I would never dream of such a thing!” Papyrus said.

“I'll vouch for your loyalty, Paps!”

Papyrus bowed. “I would be eternally grateful, Prince Asriel. And now I must be…” Papyrus froze and looked around. “Sans,” he said, a concerned glint in his sockets, “Doesn't it seem a little _unusually_ warm out?”

Sans shrugged. “That's global warming for you.”

Papyrus stroked his bony chin. Yes, that must be it. He was just very stressed out and overworked, and all of that meant he surely wasn't thinking as clearly as usual. “Thank you, Sans. I must have just jumped to conclusions.” Papyrus spun on his heel and strode away, humming a regal tune.

 – 

Sans watched Papyrus march off and waited until he was well out of earshot. “What a guy. Paps really gives everything one hundred ten percent, doesn't he?”

“Yeah, he tries real hard,” Asriel agreed. “Why do you give him a hard time?”

Sans looked at him innocently. “You think I'm giving him a hard time?”

“I mean, you're always making puns he hates, and ribbing on him…”

“Nice one.”

Asriel hadn't even realized he'd made a pun.

Sans continued on. “If I ever hurt Papyrus, like, _really_ hurt him, I'd know. And if Papyrus ever hurt me, he'd know. That's what happens when you live with someone long enough.”

Asriel wiped some grease from his paws onto his shirt. It didn't come off. This had been a bad idea. “Well, thanks for helping me with my training, anyway. How long does it take for this stuff to come off?”

“Off of you, or your clothes?”

“Both.”

Sans shrugged.

The black streaks and blotches stuck to Asriel's white fur and pink paw pads. For a few seconds, the image of the strange black blood he'd seen pouring from Zero's wounds before they'd died stuck in Asriel's mind.

He could still see their face illuminated by the flames as the Peace Roller burned around them. The same flames that had burned their corpse, barely even recognizable as it were, at the funeral. He'd tried so hard _not_ to think about Zero, but…

Zero had always made it very hard _not_ to think about them.

“You okay, Asriel?”

Asriel brushed his paws futilely on his shorts. “Yeah.”

“All right. That's weird because you don't look okay, but all right. I'm gonna tell Mr. Wiatrowsky we're done with his car. Wanna get a bite to eat? There's a pretty good Lebanese joint around here.” Humans, with the rich diversity of their cultures, had an incredibly diverse palate, even compared to monsters. And even though human food didn't have the magical spark of monster food, and as such did things like spoil and grow stale, monsters loved the stuff. Human restaurants did _amazing_ business throughout the Monster Kingdom. “I go there every week,” Sans added.

It didn't sound like something Sans would enjoy, but Asriel was up for it. “Sure.”

Sans stuck a sticky note on the Wiatrowskys' front door and led Asriel down the street as the prince wrapped his cloak around himself. “Mr. Hamieh was generous enough to let me keep one of my projects in his freezer, and it's about time I picked it up anyway.”

That sounded weird. What did Sans do that required a restaurant's freezer? It didn't seem all that appropriate for a quantum physicist.

“No shortcuts?” Asriel asked.

“I'm not in any hurry.” Sans stuck his hands into his coat pockets.

“I'm sure you're missing a great nap somewhere.”

Sans clutched his heart. “Ouch.”

Asriel chuckled. “Was that more than you can take?”

“I think I need to head on over to the burn ward. Ya Mejana's right up ahead, I'm just gonna tell ya upfront, their shawarma's amazing, I—” He stopped in his tracks.

Asriel looked ahead. There, standing in front of the brick facade of the restaurant and blocking the entrance, were a pair of tall monsters wearing gray cloaks. With their hoods drawn down, and thick black scarves drawn up, their faces were indistinguishable.

Sans walked up to them. Asriel kept close behind him. His entire body felt like a tightly-coiled spring.

“Hey, buddies.” Sans gestured to the gray-cloaks. “What, you got a private party going on in there?”

The gray-cloaks looked down at him, and one of them spoke. “Yes.”

“Are we invited?”

“No.”

Sans grabbed Asriel by the arm and pulled him to his side. “I've got a VIP with me.”

Asriel looked the gray-cloaks in the gap between their hoods and scarves. It was half past four and the sun had already started to dip below the horizon, but these two were wearing huge sunglasses. “I'm kind of a big deal,” he told them. He leaned over to the side, trying to get a glimpse of the restaurant through the windows. The blinds were all drawn, but it was pretty easy to see that unless the restaurant's thing was dinner by candlelight, there wasn't much activity on the inside.

“What if I told you I was friends with the owner?” Sans plied.

The gray-cloaks looked at each other, then let out muffled cries as their boots separated from the ground. The two of them slammed hard into the wall, rattling the windows, and slumped down to the sidewalk like marionettes which had had their strings cut. An electric-blue spark of light faded from Sans' left eye. “Let's go.”

Asriel looked at the fallen guards and looked back at Sans. The skeleton's features, much like his attitude, seemed… hardened, somehow. The prince knelt down next to one of the guards as Sans reached for the door handle. He just wanted to make sure Sans hadn't killed anyone.

Asriel lowered the gray-cloak's hood and pulled down their scarf, then drew back in shock. Even without removing the monster's shades, he could tell who they were. A blocky face chiseled into a craggy, pepper-speckled hunk of pinkish stone.

Talus.

A member of the Royal Guard.

Asriel hurried to the next gray-cloak and unmasked them, revealing a cobalt blue serpent's face. Asriel recognized this one as well. She was also a member of the Guard— Snaca. But why weren't these two in their proper uniforms, or displaying their badges? “Sans, you just knocked out two members of the Royal Guard…” He couldn't raise his voice above a whisper. He couldn't tell if Sans had heard him. “Sans, these two are—”

Sans yanked the door to the restaurant open. Wind chimes jingled, trailing slowly into silence. “Mr. Hamieh? Is everything all right in here?” he called out.

Asriel peeked into the restaurant as a human boy about Asriel's own age raised his head over the maître d's desk. A doe-headed monster poked her own head out seconds later. “ Hi, Sans…” the human boy whispered. The monster looked quizzically at him. Sans didn't seem to recognize the human.

Sans stepped over the threshold. “What's going on here? Is Mr. Hamieh okay?” The restaurant was deserted. Spilled alcohol dripped from the bar on the left, the puddles on the counter littered with shattered glass. A few barstools had been overturned, although the majority of the tables were untouched. There had been a fight here.

The deer girl gestured over to the kitchen in back with her hoof as a very tall, very thin, very balding human man with white streaks in what was left of his hair stumbled out. The entire left side of his face was a mass of purple and red, and the front of his rumpled white shirt was stained with what was either blood, red wine, or both. The one eye that wasn't swollen shut sparked when the human caught sight of Sans. “Sorry, we're closed today…” His voice was soft, and he walked with a noticeable limp.

Sans hurried over to pull up a chair for the man. “Asriel, get some ice for Mr. Hamieh. Geez, what happened here?”

 _“_ _Keep your voices down,”_ Hamieh cautioned the skeleton. _“They're still here.”_

“We took care of the guys up front,” Sans said.

Asriel collected some ice chips from behind the bar and wrapped them in a hand towel. The vapors from a puddle of whiskey on the counter stung his nose. Asriel couldn't understand what humans found so appealing about the stuff. He brought the ice over to Hamieh, and Sans helped the human apply it to their bruises. He was appalled at what these monsters had done to the human. What could Hamieh possibly have done that merited this kind of abuse?

_“There's another, in the walk-in freezer. They might not be able to hear us…”_

“What happened, Hamieh?”

 _“They're here for your project,”_ Hamieh whispered. He tried to stand up. _“It's not safe here…”_

“And you tried to _stop_ them? If I were you, I'd've just _given_ it to them.”

Hamieh laughed. “And then, what kind of host would I be?” He waved over to the boy and doe in the corner. “Cervus, Selim. Go home. I'll pay you for two whole day's work.”

The two servers scurried around the desk and headed out of the restaurant, bumping into each other on the way out. Neither of them seemed all too sure of which direction to take off in.

 _“The leader, he can…”_ Hamieh gestured inarticulately with his hands as he watched his employees leave. _“He can do this… thing. I think he kind of scrambled their brains a bit.”_ Hamieh tried to stand up. _“But really, we should talk somewhere else—”_

Asriel spoke up. “Why'd the Roy—?” But Sans shushed him before he could finish.

Why had Sans cut him off? It was very rude of him, and furthermore, if members of the Guard were going rogue, wouldn't it be in everybody's best interest to know they were in danger? Especially the humans who lived in the kingdom? “Those two up front. They're G—”

“Goons. Hired goons,” Sans finished for him. He pulled Asriel aside and whispered into his ear. _“C'mon, do you really think it's wise going around yelling about the Guard being behind this? You could get people panicking.”_

 _“Well, maybe this is something_ worth _panicking about_. _”_

 _“Let's hold off on inciting a riot for now, okay?_ _”_

“Why didn't you tell me you were in trouble with the Mob, Sans?” A thin smile brightened the injured man's face. “I could have helped. My third cousin twice-removed is a made man.”

“What's he made of?” Sans asked Hamieh.

“Like all of us humans, mostly water.” Hamieh chuckled, and Asriel realized why this was Sans' favorite restaurant.

“Aren't you Lebanese?” Asriel asked. The Mafia was an Italian thing, right?

Hamieh nodded. “One of my parents was, at least.”

Asriel felt a wave of anger cresting in his heart as he helped Sans carry the human out of Ya Mejana. The idea that even a member of the Guard could join such a petty and violent gang made him want to break something. Scum like this should never have been let into the Royal Guard. When he was done with them, they'd wish Undyne had been the one to discipline them…

Hamieh gasped. Asriel realized the he was gripping the man much too tightly, and let go. “I'm so sorry!”

Hamieh waved the prince away. “That's all right, Your Highness. I'm fine.”

Sans let go of his human friend. “Asriel, you take care of Mr. Hamieh. I'm going back in.”

“What's in there that's so important?” Asriel asked. The anger he'd been trying to quell crept into his voice, despite his best efforts. “What do these guys want so badly that they're willing to beat on helpless old men to get it?”

“I'm forty-five!” Hamieh protested.

“I'll explain later. I don't have the…”

 _Don't you dare say “thyme”,_ Asriel thought.

_“…Thyme.”_

As Sans walked back into the restaurant, Asriel felt like he understood Papyrus just a little bit better.

“Mr. Hamieh, which way to your house?”

“We just left it.” _  
_

“You _live_ in your restaurant?”

“Above it, actually.”

That sounded awful, but Asriel decided to keep his thoughts to himself. “Maybe you should stay with your neighbors for a bit.”

The street was beginning to liven up. Windows and doors were opening, blinds were parting, humans were gathering. Everyone was staring at Asriel.

“Um…” Asriel gulped. He had to act princely here. “We've got some, uh, criminals in there… but I… _I, myself, will_ _bring them to justice!”_ He stomped his foot for emphasis, and immediately decided that pounding his fists would have been a much more decisive and “in-charge” gesture. Oh, well—making mistakes was a part of learning.

Asriel whirled around, his cloak spinning behind him, and conjured a burning blade. He cut a fiery arc through the air, throwing yellow-orange sparks into the wintry air in front of him as he stormed into the restaurant. Lesson Twelve of Undyne's combat curriculum: Pose. Posture. Move like somebody's watching. Everybody loves a face.

Sans was nowhere to be found. Asriel strained his ears for any sound of a struggle. Perhaps the fight was already over. He headed for the kitchen, holding the blade of his partisan high to avoid catching any tablecloths or carpets on fire. Dirty pots and pans and puddles of gray, soapy water spilled over the tiled floor. Sans stood over an unconscious gray-cloak, a frost-covered black box tucked in his right arm.

Asriel had to admit, he was surprised. He'd never thought Sans could be a fighter. “Is everything okay here?”

Sans spun around, surprised. “Uh—Asriel! Hi! Sorry, I couldn't save anything for you—it was just me and this jabroni here.” He gestured to the fallen gray-cloak. “ Caught 'em by surprise.”

Asriel turned the gray-cloak over on their back. It was Formickey, a Royal Guardsman with a bulbous, ant-like head. Their segmented eyes gazed blankly into the ceiling. So that was it, then. It all seemed a little too anticlimactic. His polearm dispersed into a shower of sparks at his side.

“We've got to let Papyrus know about this.” Asriel reached into his pocket for his phone, but Sans was quicker on the draw.

“I'll take care of it.” Sans began tapping out a message on his own phone. “Don't you worry your princely little head about it.”

Asriel rifled through the gray-cloak's pockets, turning out a cell phone, a Royal Guard badge, and another badge—one he didn't recognize. The emblem on the badge was a human skull, with two fractures running through it. One fracture bisected the right eye socket and traveled up, curving along the cranium. The other bisected the left eye socket and traveled down, cutting across the mouth and through the jaw. A pair of feathered wings flanked the skull, seeming to protrude from where its ears would be, and a golden halo hovered above the cranium. There was a single word underneath the skull. Asriel recognized that it was written in Old High Monsterish—a language that had been dead for centuries before even the first Human-Monster war—but couldn't identify it. Even his parents weren't well-versed in the tongue.

Asriel's thoughts turned to Formickey, Talus, and Snaca—all members of the Guard. Who knew how many other Guardsmen were involved in this movement? Horrifying possibilities spun in his head. But even if this group was merely content to terrorize humans, it still deserved to be destroyed.

“We have to let Undyne know, too. And—”

Sans was still tapping on his phone. “Got it.” He slipped his phone back in his pocket. “You recognize that word?”

Asriel realized he was still turning the mysterious badge over and over in his paws. “Uh, no. It's a dead language…”

“Even if you spoke it, you wouldn't recognize it. It's a reverse romanization.”

“A what?”

“A romanization's when you take a word in language like Japanese or Chinese and write it out using the Latin alphabet. Well, this is an English word written in the Old High Monsterish alphabet.” Sans drew his ivory finger across the patch, tracing each character. “Mis-an-thro-py.”

“'Misanthropy'…” Asriel felt the ugly way the word rolled around in his mouth.

“It means…”

“I know what it means, Sans.” The hatred of humanity. Asriel slipped the badge into his pocket. “We've got to purge the Guard, Sans. Before these guys… before they hurt anyone else.”

Asriel and Sans carried the three Misanthropy guards back to the castle themselves, not trusting any member of the Royal Guard they could call to handle the issue. Sans was unusually grim; he didn't crack a single pun or bad joke on his way to the castle.

It was starting to rain. This was the worst mid-December ever.

 – 

Papyrus paced back and forth, practically wearing a rut in front of the King and Queen's twin thrones. “This is horrible! A travesty! A nightmare! A catastrophe!”

Asriel found himself shaking. He'd never seen Papyrus in a state like this. If the skeleton had hair, he'd be tearing it out. “Papyrus…”

“No coup-d'états! I promised Lady Toriel, no coup-d'états!” Papyrus collapsed into the King's throne.

“T-there's no evidence they want to take control of the kingdom,” Asriel reassured him, although the possibility that Misanthropy _did_ want to take over dwelt heavily on his mind as well. “I think we should call the whole Royal Guard to the palace, and then we can…”

“We'll search them!” Papyrus leaped to his feet. “But… what if they're too smart for that, and aren't carrying their badges?”

“The least we can do for now is get every member of the Guard off the streets and make a statement to the citizens,” Asriel said.

“No! That would only incite panic among the citizens. We'd be playing right into their hands!" said Papyrus. “Asriel, one must always assume his enemies are at least as clever as he is—if not more so! Therefore! We must think more cleverly than we normally would!” He wagged a finger at Asriel as he resumed pacing.

“If we need someone clever…” Asriel pondered. “What about Alphys?”

Asriel could almost see the metaphorical light bulb switch on over Papyrus' head. “Yes! But… she still can't leave her house without at least one member of the Guard escorting her…”

 – 

The doorbell rang. “J-just a minute!” Alphys pulled her coat out of her closet and wrapped it around her pajamas. Yes, it was only half past six in the evening, but when you couldn't leave your house, you had no reason _not_ to wear your pajamas all the time. The doorbell rang again, followed by a series of knocks.

“My darling Alphys, would you be a dear and get that?” Mettaton drawled from the other end of the apartment. He was sprawled over Alphys' workbench like a house cat, cables and wires of all colors trailing from his boxy torso. “And turn down the television, it's giving me quite the headache, dearie…”

“I'll be there in a sec! I—I'm really not decent, though, so, uh, don't expect, er…” Alphys scrambled for the door and cracked it open. “Hello?” she squeaked. Her gaze traveled upward, until her eyes met the massive battleaxes of Dogamy and Dogaressa, the most saccharine, lovey-dovey power couple in the kingdom (they had spent ages playing second fiddle to Toriel and Asgore in the annual nose-nuzzle championships, but the King and Queen just didn't have quite the same relationship after they remarried, ensuring the Dogi would remain in first place).

The two dog-monsters sniffed the air. “Doctor Alphys, I presume?” Dogaressa asked. ( _“It smells like Doctor Alphys to me,”_ Dogamy whispered to her).

“Uh, yeah…”

“You must come with us. Papyrus has need of you.”

“Okay… ” Alphys glanced over to her workstation. Mettaton had begun tossing handfuls of glitter in the air, letting the sparkling motes fall upon his perfectly rectangular body. Alphys didn't know where he'd gotten the glitter from. “D-do I need to bring any tools, or anything like, uh, that? With me?”

“Your brain is the only tool you will need,” Dogamy told her.

“Will you be gone long, Doctor?” Mettaton called out to Alphys. “I do believe I may—” He coughed into his hand. “I do believe I may be coming down with a bug…”

Alphys asked the Dogi.

“It is very urgent,” Dogaressa said.

“So, you will likely only be gone for the night,” Dogamy said.

Mettaton moaned. “Who will feed me? Who will pay attention to me? Who will burnish my endoskeleton for me? Who will stop me from throwing the wildest house party in all of history?”

Alphys followed the Dogi out the door. “Just one night! You'll survive, Mettaton,” she called out to him.

“But of what import is _survival…_ when one cannot _live,_ Alphys!?” Mettaton retorted as the door swung shut behind Alphys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "No coup-d'etats while we are away, is that clear?"
> 
> *Always Sunny titlecard* "The Gang Causes a Coup-D'Etat"


	16. The Schism of the Guard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, a bad situation starts to get worse.

The Dogi led Alphys to a black van. The front fender was heavily dented, and it looked as though several large objects had collided with the grille at very high speeds. The back end of the van, however, was pristine. Alphys noticed, as she climbed into the back seat and fastened her seatbelt, that the windows were tinted.

Dogamy sensed her unease. “It's for your own protection, Doctor. Papyrus fears for your safety.”

“What, is there a coup going on or something? Please tell me there's not a coup going on.”

“There's not a coup going on,” Dogamy told her in reassuring tones. Alphys wasn't entirely convinced, and felt the pit of anxiety in her stomach grow larger.

Dogaressa climbed into the driver's seat. Alphys suddenly realized that her escorts were a pair of dogs who relied primarily on their sense of smell to get around.

“I-I didn't know either of you could drive…” The car shuddered to life.

“My wife is an excellent driver,” said Dogamy.

“My husband is an excellent navigator,” said Dogaressa as Dogamy stuck his head out the window.

“Ahead fifty feet, then right!” Dogamy announced, and the van lurched into motion. Cold wind whistled through the open window.

“Do you really need the window open?” Alphys asked as cold winds chilled her scales.

“How _else_ am I supposed to smell which way to go?”

Alphys' heart sank.

“Car on the left!” Dogamy called out. The van banked hard to the right, and Alphys was nearly strangled by her seatbelt.

Dogaressa turned the radio on as the van continued to weave through the streets of Grasslands, and an old human song began to play. _“Ain't got no distractions, can't hear no buzzers and bells…”_

“W-we're just driving to the cable cars, r-right?” Alphys was starting to regret choosing the right-side seat.

“The cable cars are very exposed, Doctor. It wouldn't be _safe.”_

_“Don't see no lights a-flashin', plays by sense of smell…”_

“Car on the right!” The van banked hard to the left. Alphys felt a little better about choosing the right seat for about a fraction of a second, before the side of her head collided with the door. Bright spots of light danced in front of her eyes. _Safe._ And _this_ was?

“What? We can't drive all the way to the castle. It'll take at least an hour.”

_“Always gets a replay, never seen him fall…”_

“An hour if we're slow,” Dogaressa said.

 _Oh dear god,_ Alphys thought, bracing herself.

_“That deaf, dumb and blind kid sure plays a mean pinball…”_

After a few minutes, the road became much rougher. Alphys peeked between the two dog-monsters and saw, through the windshield, that they'd reached the mountain path. At least there wouldn't be any more traffic to contend with— until they reached Newest Home.

“Tree!” Dogamy shouted.

“Tree?”

_Tree!?_

There was a sharp jolt, a horrendous noise, and a whirling sensation of vertigo. Everything went black.

 –

Papyrus looked glum. He'd called Alphys' cell phone earlier, and she hadn't answered. That wasn't exactly unusual for her. He'd called the Dogi, just to make sure they'd picked her up like he'd asked them to, and neither of them had answered. That was _very_ unusual for them.

Asriel felt so helpless cooped up in the castle, and it disgusted him. If his father weren't away, he'd be fighting tooth and claw to protect his people.

He stood up. “I've got to get out there.”

Papyrus pulled him back down. “It's safer in here.”

Asriel stood up again. “I don't care about _safe,_ Papyrus. Alphys isn't _safe._ Why bother getting stronger if I can't protect the people who need our help?”

“Prince Asriel, do you have any idea what your mother would _do_ to me if anything happened to you?”

“What's Undyne gonna do to _you_ if something happens to Alphys?”

“I know it's hard, Prince Asriel. But sometimes putting yourself in danger is the selfish thing to do. Besides, Undyne will be back in the morning, and you know she'll make short work of Misanthropy.”

Asriel's fists began to unclench. “I guess I'll understand when I'm older, right?” He felt as though he were slowly deflating. “I'm just tired of feeling _useless.”_

“Children aren't _meant_ to be useful.”

“I'm not a child—!”

“Asriel is right,” Sans said, passing by. “He's a _kid.”_

Asriel and Papyrus glared at him in unison.

“Where've you been, Sans? We're very— ”

“…Short-handed?”

Papyrus pointed toward the door. “Get out!”

Sans held up his hands. “Sorry. I was just coming back from the shack. I had to get my stuff over there. ”

The stuff. The same stuff Misanthropy had tried to steal. “What was in that box, anyway?” Asriel asked. “And why do those guys want it?”

Sans shrugged. “It's just some biomass from an alternate universe. I had to keep it on ice until I got the rest of my equipment set up to analyze it.”

“What would these hooligans want with _that?”_ Papyrus asked.

“Beats me. Oh, and Asriel, speaking of beating, thanks for taking care of that Misanthropy guy for me.”

Asriel blinked.

“I mean, he knocked me out in two seconds flat,” Sans said. “I was out for almost an hour. You must've been really tough to beat him.”

“I didn't…”

“Don't be so modest, Asriel! It was really brave of you to—”

“Sans. _You_ beat Formickey.”

Sans raised an eyebrow. “I think I'd remember…” He turned to Papyrus. “Didn't Asriel bring me back here?”

“You were _with_ the Prince, yes, but you were definitely conscious.”

“By the time I got to the kitchen, the fight was over,” Asriel explained.

“Right, so _that_ we can agree on.”

“You were there, you called Formickey a 'jabroni' or something…”

Papyrus stroked his chin. “Formickey… Formickey…”

“Whoa. That doesn't sound like something I'd say.”

“Formickey! Now I remember that name!” Papyrus snapped his fingers. “We fired that guy!”

“You fired him?” Asriel asked.

“Or he quit. It was a while back. He was _very_ displeased with the King and Queen's diplomatic decisions. He kind of blew up about it, actually.” Papyrus rushed out of the room and came back cradling a boxy laptop in his lanky arms. “And he had a curious ability…”

Asriel and Sans looked at each other uncomfortably. Both could sense that something had gone seriously wrong.

“Undyne and I keep a very comprehensive record on what special abilities any members of the Royal Guard have. Formickey here had… Ooh. Oh dear .”

Asriel and Sans crowded around Papyrus. The entry on Formickey was blank.

“Oh, no.” Papyrus laid his fingers on the screen, as if he hoped his touch could bring the deleted information back from the digital abyss. “We've been hacked!”

Asriel thought back to earlier that afternoon. _“He can do this… thing,”_ Hamieh had inadequately explained to Asriel and Sans as they'd watched his two remaining employees stumble out of the restaurant.

“Whatever he can do…” Sans started.

“He did it to the human and monster working in Hamieh's restaurant!” Asriel finished. “If we talk to them, we can find out what happened to you!”

“Why don't we get our answer from the man himself?” Papyrus made for the dungeon. Asriel and Sans followed.

The castle dungeon wasn't very large; it had never been meant to hold more than a few people. However, it could hold a lot more people than Asriel and Papyrus expected, because it was empty.

Papyrus inspected the dungeon's security camera and took down its ID code. “Sans, pull up today's footage from camera 7J.”

Sans did so, and Asriel and Papyrus huddled around the laptop.

The security footage showed, in black and white, none other than Sans himself walking into the dungeon, opening the doors of each cell, and letting all three captured Misanthropy agents out. Two were awake, but Formickey had to be dragged out by his armpits. The recording didn't capture any audio, but it looked as though Sans was whistling.

Asriel slowly turned to face Sans, staring at the skeleton's bemused face. Was that the face of a traitor?

“I don't remember doing that,” Sans protested weakly.

“What is the meaning of this, Sans?” Papyrus cried. The laptop fell from Sans' hands and clattered on the floor with a bang, its screen flickering and going dark.

“I didn't do any of that! It's got to be a trick!”

Asriel drew back his arm. “Sans, you disgusting little weasel…”

“Wait!” Ppyrus stepped in front of his brother. “Prince Asriel, you _know_ Sans couldn't have done something like this.”

Asriel's arm dropped a few inches.

“Look into your heart. Would Sans—my lazy, shiftless, lump of a brother, Sans— _really_ be dedicated enough to _any_ cause to commit high treason?”

Asriel's shoulders slumped. “…No, Papyrus.”

“Thanks, bro,” said Sans.

“I don't know what's going on here, but there's no way Sans is a traitor. Betraying someone takes _effort.”_

Sans started to sulk. “You've made your point, Paps…”

Asriel's phone started buzzing. He had a good idea of what it was, but answered it anyway. There was another cryptic message, another piercing dial-up screech , and the phone slipped from his grip and clattered on the floor.

“What was _that?”_ Papyrus asked.

“Oh, that? It's just a weird phone call.” Asriel reached for the phone, but it was still hot to the touch. “I thought it was just a prank at first, but…”

Papyrus frowned, picking up the phone and rolling it around in his hands. “This doesn't seem like a very funny prank.”

Asriel shrugged. “That's why I thought Sans was behind it.”

“Kid, you _wound_ me.”

“We'll need to have Alphys take a look at this,” Papyrus said. “She—Oh dear.” His face fell. “She's still missing! Asriel, stay here. Sans and I will search for her.”

“But—”

 _“Your safety is paramount,_ Prince Asriel. If you so much as set foot outside this castle I will lock you in one of these cells!”

–

The rain was coming down a bit harder, pattering on the windows of the castle and turning them into pale, monochrome mosaics. What little snow had been left on the ground was melting away. It was an unseasonably warm December; Asriel wanted to hate it, but couldn't muster the will to do so. In a way, even the crappy Decembers were worth cherishing above the surface.

Asriel was at the jittery halfway point between bored and anxious, and the least he could do while he was stuck here was at least _try_ to be useful. He pulled out his geometry notebook and turned to a fresh page, setting the trinkets he'd collected from the captured Misanthropy agents to the side—the three badges, the three cell phones. The phones were burners, no-frills tracfones meant to be used a few times and then discarded.

Asriel turned his attention to his notes and scrawled a single word in the center of the page: _Misanthropy._

A line from the center to another word: _Royal Guard._ Three lines, leading from that word, to the three guards he and Sans had encountered at the restaurant. And another few lines that didn't lead to any new names yet, because Asriel was still trying to remember them.

Asriel tapped his pencil against the side of his muzzle. Which other members of the Guard had he seen over the past few months sporting that drab style? _Undyne_ wouldn't have any trouble remembering which of the Guards had been running around in gray cloaks. She treated the Guard like her family.

He wrote down another word and circled it. _Conspiracy._

Every monster alive today had spent a good chunk of their lives, if not all of their lives, in a state of quote-unquote “war” against humankind. Of course, up until the Barrier had broken, the only humans monsterkind had had to fight were the occasional wanderers into the Underground. The Second Human-Monster War was possibly the only war in the history of the planet with a grand total of six human casualties. Of course, Toriel hated hearing the war described that way, as “casualty” seemed almost too ghastly a word to use to describe the murder of children. Asgore didn't talk much about that war either. Asriel was thankful that he had lived in times of peace.

It was understandable, though, that some monsters might not be able to let go of their own pasts. The younger ones adjusted much better to the end of the war, but compared to humans, monsters lived for a very long time… and had very long memories. If Misanthropy were true to its name, then doubtless its members would be the monsters who felt let down by the King and Queen's overtures toward peace (despite a few missteps here and there). Maybe Misanthropy _did_ intend to overthrow the royal family, in which case having members in the Royal Guard would be a necessity. And if that were the case, Misanthropy would have three specific targets in its sights…

Asriel picked up his own phone, still plugged into its charger, and sent a short text with trembling fingers.

A few minutes of restless tapping on the desk passed before he received a response.

 _Hello son! How R u? UR dad and I have just finished building a family of snowmen ]:) Will send p_ _rix_ _l8r. <3 u lots, MOM_

_*I meant pix as in pictures lol autocorrect_

Well, that was one less thing to worry about. Apparently, Sans and Papyrus had decided not to tell his parents about what was happening yet. He shot his parents a quick text back.

 _Cold_ _+_ _rainy over here._ _Not fun._ _Wish we had more snow._ _Say hi to Dad for me! LV Asriel_

Asriel checked each of the three cell phones he and Sans had confiscated and found them loaded with text messages: messages to other Misanthropy agents, plans of action, meeting times and locations. Most of the plans were surprisingly petty acts of larceny and vandalism, which, oddly, made the whole organization even _more_ reprehensible to him. How dare they! In his father's kingdom! In his mother's kingdom! In _his_ kingdom! Emboldened in his anger, Asriel concocted a plan, collecting the phone numbers of Misanthropy agents he could tell were Royal Guards (they didn't make much of an effort to hide themselves from each other) and setting up a new meeting time: One hour from now. The Royal Courtyard. He was going to set an ambush.

He found himself absentmindedly sketched the Misanthropy logo in the corner of the page as he continued jotting down his thoughts. Something felt oddly familiar about the way those two fractures intersected with the features on the skull…

One of the burner phones started to buzz.

The other phone started to buzz as well, and the third followed, producing an annoying jackhammer drone against the wood surface of Asriel's desk. The three phones inched toward the edge of the desk before he caught them. Was it the mystery caller? If they were connected to Misanthropy, then why had they been calling _his_ phone, too?

Almost as if on cue, Asriel's phone began to buzz. The three burner phones clattered to the floor as he grabbed his own phone and answered the call. He didn't even bother listening to whatever the voice on the other end had to say. He had a message of his own.

“Listen, jerk. I don't know who you are, or where you are, or what you're planning, but I'm going to—”

Every muscle in his body froze as the electronic screech pierced his ears, digging into his brain. A red-hot ice pick shoved into his eardrum wouldn't have hurt as much. Asriel hadn't felt any kind of pain like this since Zero had twisted a knife in his gut. His claws rent deep grooves in the wood panels of the floor. His entire body felt as if it were about to turn itself inside-out.

And then the pain relented, and Asriel's head cleared. He was on his hands and knees, surrounded by dead cell phones, the taste of bile in the back of his throat. Even in the dead of winter, he'd never felt so cold. He shivered as a few spots of blood appeared on the floor in front of him, the thick red-brown splotches quickly drying.

 _Are you okay, Asriel?_ Frisk asked him.

Asriel's legs could barely hold the rest of his body as he tried to stand up, and only just managed to fall backwards onto his bed, the backs of his knees catching on the bedposts. As his stomach twisted into knots, he pulled the covers around himself. He was still cold. It worked its way into the marrow of his bones. The covers didn't help at all. His teeth chattered. “I'll b-be f-f-fine, F-F-F-F—”

_You can hear me now?_

Asriel clutched at his stomach. The pain was getting worse. “Uh-huh.” He started to drag himself out of bed, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. “I think I might have to puke…”

_Okay, now I know this isn't a good time, but I've been trying to tell you for like two hours now…_

“Can it wait?” Asriel moaned.

_The skull on the Misanthropy emblem—I've seen it before._

“Frisk, n-now isn't the best t-t-time for this!”

_Do you know how hard this is for me? Every time I need to tell you something I have to shout it at you for hours until you start listening._

“It's n-n-not my fault if _you_ f-f-fucked up!” Asriel snapped in turn. He hit the floor and retched. It felt like some sort of lizard was trying to crawl up his esophagus, and Asriel wouldn't have been surprised if there _was_ one. He was having a severe medical episode because of a weird phone call, after all, so all bets were off as far as weird happenings went.

 _I—_ Frisk went silent for a moment. _I'm sorry._

Asriel climbed to his feet and stumbled into the hall, his balance shot to hell. He banged his elbow on the wall and nearly collapsed all over again. The walls spun around him as if to mock his lack of coordination.

_All of this happened because I wasn't thinking clearly. It was selfish of me._

Asriel dragged himself into the kitchen and leaned over the sink. The very act seemed to invite whatever was forcing its way out of his stomach to hasten its ascent, and within seconds a torrent of today's lunch and breakfast and hot, burning bile had flowed into the stainless steel sink. His nose burned and his eye watered, and he felt like the acrid taste in his mouth would never leave him, but Asriel was already starting to feel just a little better. The warmth was beginning to return to his body. He could even stand on his own.

“'S-s-s-selfish'?” How was bringing him back to life selfish?

_I'll, uh… I'll explain later._

Asriel was embarrassed to admit, even just to himself, that he still had difficulty wrapping his head around Frisk's situation. It was still hard for him to imagine how lonely they must be whenever he couldn't hear them. “I'm sorry I yelled at you, Frisk.”

_Water under the bridge. Can I tell you about the skull now?_

Asriel rinsed out his mouth with a few glasses of water and raided the cupboard, finding a loaf of bread with only a few slices cut out of it. In this state, even plain, unadorned, unbuttered white bread was like mana from the heavens. “Go ahead.”

_So, back in the Underground, I ran into a couple weird monsters. They were all gray, and—_

“They were wearing _gray?”_

 _No, Asriel, they_ were _gray. Like all the color had been sucked out of them. They were like, ghosts. Well, not ghosts like Napstablook, but, like,_ ghost _ghosts. Phantoms. And they kept talking about this guy, uh, Gastly or something. They said he had an accident and ended up scattered through time and space._

Asriel nodded sagely, but truthfully, he had no idea who Frisk was talking about.

_I saw him once. I was wandering through Waterfall, and I found a door I'd never seen before._

Asriel remembered something he'd seen before. Or, more accurately, something he'd never seen before. But someone else had. “A door in the wall? And only you could see it?”

_I mean, maybe. There weren't any other monsters around I could ask about it. Anyway, I went into the door…_

“…You saw nothing,” Asriel finished for them. That's what Chara had seen in there, after all. That day, and the terror he'd felt when Chara had vanished, had never faded from his memory.

_No._

“Oh.”

 _I saw a monster. But… they weren't all there, if you know what I mean. And they vanished when I got close to them. But their face…_ that's _what's on those Misanthropy badges._

Asriel pondered what Frisk had just told him as he finished the loaf of bread. He hadn't even bothered to slice it. “Now I'm even more confused. Do you think this Gasty person is Misanthropy's leader?”

_Their leader, or at least their mascot._

Asriel started a fire underneath the kettle to start some tea, after washing the rest of the vomit left in the sink down the drain. Even after running the garbage disposal, a lingering stench hung in the air. It would have been smarter to use the toilet, but when faced with a violently upset stomach, it had been difficult to make rational decisions. Within a few minutes, the kettle began to whistle. The shrill, piercing tone hurt, and Asriel extinguished the flame immediately. “What tea is best for…”

_Peppermint tea. There's some in the next drawer over._

 Asriel took a look and was confronted with a small army of small ceramic jars. There was a small metal ball on a chain in the corner, its surface pocked with tiny holes. _It's in the one shaped like a snowman._

“How do you know?”

_Just a hunch._

Asriel popped open the ceramic snowman's head and was confronted with a pile of fragrant tea leaves. “It's not bagged?”

_Use the strainer._

Asriel popped open the ball, scooped in some tea leaves, and let it steep in the kettle. “There's a lot we need to find out about Misanthropy.”

_You're not going to go through with the ambush, are you?_

Asriel gulped. “I-I have to. We can't pass up a chance like this, can we?”

 _Yes. Yes we can. Look at yourself. I think I saw one of your organs there in the sink. And just to remind you, I'm about 100 percent certain I won't be able to undo things if we, uh, you know. Die. You didn't steal that power_ back _from Zero, you just turned it off for them, remember?_

“I'll be fine. I just have to stay determined, right?” Asriel coughed. His eye watered. There was still a bit of bile caught in the back of his throat. “C'mon, Frisk. This handicap just makes it a fair fight for them.”

_You know, it was really scary the first time I died. And then it happened again, and it was a little less scary. Eventually it was just kind of annoying and painful. And then Zero took that power for themselves, and now dying is scary again._

“I'll try to talk 'em down first,” Asriel reassured Frisk as he rummaged for his umbrella.

 _We only have one shot at that. It took me, like, a dozen tries before I found out how to not get killed by Undyne. And yeah, we're friends_ now, _but… A_ dozen _tries, Asriel._

“So, what you're saying is, I should skip the diplomacy just go straight to the fighting.”

_No, I'm saying you should keep yourself out of trouble.  
_

“I promise, I will only unsheathe this blade as a last resort.”

_You've been watching way too much anime._

Asriel slid the katana a few inches out of its sheath. The polished metal shone even in the dim lighting. He'd found himself caught in the middle of many an argument between Alphys and Undyne over which swords were better, Japanese or European swords. It was a surprisingly complex topic, and Alphys and Undyne constantly switched sides, often several times in the course of one discussion. Usually, they asked Asriel to mediate. Asriel thought katanas were the most beautiful, because Frisk was right. He watched too much anime.

_Please, Asriel, take care of yourself._

Asriel sheathed the blade. “If we don't stop Misanthropy, there isn't… Frisk, what if there won't be a _me_ to take care of?” He squeezed the umbrella-sword's hilt. He had to fight… he _had_ to fight… _he had to fight…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for the big fight!


	17. Dark Determination, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Asriel fights ~~FOXHOUND~~ ~~Dead Cell~~ ~~the Cobra Unit~~. Content warning for graphic violence, brutality, and bloodshed.

Doctor Alphys came to slowly and painfully and, with a great deal of effort, realize she was hanging upside-down. She struggled to collect her thoughts. The last thing she remembered was the van swerving to avoid a fallen tree and… Yeah, that would do it. She reached up (down?) and felt the growing bruise on her forehead, sticky with blood. A heavy mist hung in the air. The Dogi were nowhere to be found.

Somebody tapped on the rear passenger-side door. Alphys turned her head in the direction of the noise and was greeted with a sharp pain, as if somebody had shoved a knife into her neck and twisted it.

The window shattered, revealing a gray-hooded figure with a covered face on the other side. They reached into the car, undid the lock on the door, and pulled the door open. “Doctor Alphys?” Their voice was modulated and unrecognizable.

Alphys tried to nod.

The figure climbed in, undid her seatbelt, and pulled the scientist out from the wreckage. The ground was cold and wet, a dirty slurry of mud and slushy snow. “D-did Papyrus…?” she croaked.

The figure nodded. “Don't be afraid,” they told her. “We are friends.”

“The dogs…”

“They've… fallen down.”

Alphys looked around as best she could. Both the lenses of her glasses had shattered, filling her sight with blurry, white spiderwebs. But beyond the spiderwebs, she could see more gray figures patrolling the mountain path.

“Sharp rocks came through the windshield. They're dust.”

 _Dust…_ Not the dogs. Could they really be gone? Alphys' rescuer didn't give her much time to dwell on the tragedy as they climbed into the overturned van and began to cut through the restraints. Her rescuer's bedside manner was atrocious, but beggars couldn't be choosers. The gray-cloak pulled her out of the wreckage and laid her out on the dirt as more gray-cloaks clustered around her. One reached down to prod Alphys' neck, producing a jolt of pain. “Whiplash. A minor injury,” they pronounced with a raspy croak. It didn't _feel_ minor to her. “Ice, and gentle, active movement. Your condition will improve.”

Alphys curled her tongue around in her mouth. She'd chipped a tooth. She told the medical expert as much.

“I cannot do anything about that, unfortunately.”

They loaded Alphys into another van and took off. A single guard sat across from Alphys as the car lurched into action. The guard provided the scientist with an ice patch, which she gingerly applied to the back of her neck. She was already starting to feel better. Physically, at least. As the fog cleared from her brain, Alphys was slowly starting to suspect that her rescuers weren't on the up-and-up.

“Y-you guys… You're not with the Guard, are you? What is this, a coup or something? And you want me to build some sort of weapon for you? I-is that what this is all about? 'Cause, I mean, my glasses are all messed up, and I can't see a thing without them, and, uh, I'm out of the evil scientist racket for good now! S-so you might as well just, um, toss me out with the rest of the trash!”

The guard stood up, crossed the short distance between themselves and Alphys, and put their hands on the scientist's shoulders.

Alphys tried to look up into the guard's impenetrable visor. “I was just kidding about that last part! Please don't throw me out of this car! A-and the middle part too! And the beginning! Just point me at whatever you want me to build and, zip!”

“Alphys,” the guard whispered. “Don't worry.” They pulled down their hood and removed their shades. Alphys still couldn't make out their face through her ruined glasses, but there was something familiar about their voice. But it couldn't be…

“Try not to panic. I'll explain everything later.” The guard patted her gently on the shoulders. “I didn't want it to be this way, but… Just hang in there, okay?”

 _“Undyne!?”_ Alphys squawked before the guard clamped a gloved hand around her snout. A million questions started to pile up in her mouth.

 _“Shh! I'm undercover!”_ Undyne whispered as she hastily reapplied her disguise.  _“Deep cover._ Just call me 'Fishmael'.”

“Un—Uh, _Fishmael_ (Do I really have to call you that?), the dogs, t-the guards, they're, they're, uh…”

“I know.” Alphys could hear a twinge of regret in the captain's voice, no matter how flat she tried to keep it. “I-it wasn't my idea. I didn't have a say…”

“I wasn't implying…”

“It's okay. Alphys, these people don't want to hurt you, but still… I'll do what I can to protect you.”

“Who… who are these people?”

 “They call themselves 'Misanthropy'.”

–

Asriel counted about five guards in the courtyard from his hiding spot. There were no conveniently-shaped lamps to hide behind, but the thick bushes in the center of the courtyard provided excellent cover. And in the dark and the rain, visibility was even lower, despite the salt rock lanterns ringing the walls and casting warm yellow-orange lights onto the slick cobblestones. It was Asriel's first stakeout, and he had to admit, it hadn't been very fun. It was cold, it was wet, and he couldn't even put up his umbrella without compromising his position. The only protection he had from the rain was his cloak, which did an admirable job of keeping just about every part of him but his face warm and dry. In about an hour the temperature would probably dip just below freezing, turning the rain into sleet.

The guards were anonymous in their identical robes, but Asriel assumed (or at least hoped) that three of them were the same three he and Sans had encountered earlier that day. He decided that five was enough opponents to fight, if it came to that, and stood up from his hiding spot. Finally, he could unfurl his umbrella.

All five Misanthropy agents turned in the direction of the rustling foliage just in time to see the prince ignite an orb of fire in his paw. The roiling golden flames twisted themselves into a long pole, tipped with a broadsword blade and curved, sharp crossguards. Thin tongues of flame took the shapes of thorny vines, wrapping themselves around the shaft and crossguard in a double-helix, like the snakes of a caduceus.

Asriel pointed the blade at the five hooded figures. Steam rose from the blade as raindrops hit it and instantly evaporated. “Traitors!” He took several slow steps toward the group. Several of the Misanthropy agents conjured their own weapons—simple-but-effective constructs, rudimentary swords and spears of white light. “Drop your weapons.”

None of the armed agents dropped their weapons.

Asriel took another step, nearly slipping, but regaining his balance just in time to avoid making himself look foolish. “My father wouldn't show mercy to the likes of you. Captain Undyne certainly wouldn't. But if you surrender to me here and now, I'll persuade them to be lenient.”

Several of the agents looked at each other, but one waved a comforting hand to them and stepped forward. “Young Prince Asriel,” the leader replied in honeyed tones. “What have we done that merits the accusation of 'traitor'?”

Asriel was taken aback, but stood firm. “Beating and terrorizing the subjects you took an oath to protect… That's close enough in my book. None of your will ever be guards again. Throw down your weapons, and maybe I'll find a place for you as… oh, I dunno. Dishwashers? Janitors? It's a better fate than what's in store for you when the King and the rest of the Royal Guard hear about this.”

 _Asriel, don't provoke them. You can still at least_ try _to settle this peacefully._

The leader snickered, then throwing their head back, let out a garrulous laugh. “Oh! Ha ha ha ha! _'Just you wait 'til my parents hear about this!'”_ They turned to the rest of the guards, who started chuckling in turn. _“'They'll be_ ever _so cross!'”_

Asriel's grip tightened. They were mocking him! _Take a deep breath. They're trying to get you to slip up._ “I don't need your backseat driving, Frisk,” he growled to himself.

“Boy.” The leader lowered their hood and loosened their scarf, revealing Formickey's insectoid face. The other guards revealed themselves as well, and Asriel counted Snaca, Talus, and two guards Asriel didn't know by name. “Hate to break it to ya, but your ma and pa, er, how do I say this?” He scratched his mandible as his antennae twitched. “They bought the farm.”

A tremor swept through Asriel's body. _Mom and Dad… dead?_ “No.” His arm trembled. “You're lying!”

“Misanthropy is everywhere, kiddo. Do you think your parents' personal attendants were clean?”

“I-I talked to Mom like an hour ago!”

Formickey shrugged. “And she died, oh…” He drew back his sleeve and took a look at the watch wrapped around his chitinous wrist. “…About half an hour ago.”

“Impossible.”

“If it's any consolation,” Snaca spoke up with a cruel, smug grin, “it was quick and painless.” She made a gun shape with her clawed talons and pointed it at the side of her angular head. “Pop. Snipers in the trees. They didn't even _feel_ it.”

Asriel could feel his fangs grinding against each other. He couldn't believe them… it couldn't be possible. His parents were too strong to be murdered by the likes of cowards and traitors. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. It wasn't real.

Talus spoke up. “Does it feel good to be king, Young Lord?”

“U-Undyne will…”

“She's on our side,” Snaca said.

Asriel closed the distance between himself and the serpentine guard with a cry of anger, thrusting his blade forward. His umbrella lay forgotten on the stone tiles. _“You take that back!”_ he howled. _“Undyne would never betray my parents!”_ Snaca parried the attack with her own white-light quarter-staff. The other guards pointed their weapons at Asriel's head as his partisan ground against Snaca's weapon. Sparks showered both their faces. Asriel pushed forward, forcing Snaca to step into the rest of the traitorous guards.

_Asriel, be careful! She's—_

Snaca slithered backward as the gaggle of guards parted behind her, and Asriel's own momentum sent him stumbling forward. The other four guards flanked him, two on each side. Asriel swept his polearm in a circle, loosening his grip just slightly enough to let the shaft slip through his paw. He grabbed tighter just as the shaft reached its end. The four guards leaped out of the way, although Formickey was not fast enough to avoid the unexpected extra reach of Asriel's attack. The blade lit his gray cloak ablaze, but glanced off of the Misanthropy agent's exoskeleton.

Asriel continued in pursuit of Snaca, raising his weapon overhead and bringing it down in a flaming arc. Snaca's body twisted as she sidestepped the attack, gliding across the rain-slicked stones with a finesse Asriel couldn't match. He spun in her direction and thrust the blade toward her. The polearm grazed Snaca's arm, which bent and twisted in a way arms normally didn't and wrapped itself along the shaft of Asriel's polearm as if it were a snake itself. As the serpentine arm closed in on him, Asriel noticed that Snaca's talons were not talons, but rather fangs, five sleek fangs arranged around a wide-open, pink mouth set into her palm. Snaca pulled the blade out of Asriel's grip and lunged toward him, her arm outstretched and hand-mouth gaping wide. Her hand reached for his neck, and before Asriel could block or dodge the attack, two fangs had dug into the side of his neck. Asriel screamed. Snaca released him and threw Asriel to the ground.

The freezing rain numbed Asriel's face and pooled in the back of his hood. As the two guards he'd forgotten the names of grabbed him by his arms and pulled him to his knees, the collected rainwater poured down his back. The wounds on his neck stopped burning, and the flow of blood slowed to a trickle, then stopped.

“Don't worry,” Snaca told Asriel. “I'm not poisonous.”

“Venomous,” Talus corrected.

“Excuse me?”

“'Poisonous' is if someone bites you and they die. 'Venomous' is if _you_ bite someone and they die,” Talus explained to her. “You're not 'venomous'.”

Snaca crossed her arms. “Why don't you use that big brain of yours for _fighting,_ Talus?”

“This is what life's like on the surface, pal.” Formickey held his arms wide in an exaggerated shrug. The rain had put out the fire on his cloak, leaving a smoldering gash in his clothing. “Nasty, brutish, and short.” He knelt down in front of Asriel and brushed his segmented fingers over the prince's eyepatch. “But, hey, looks like you know all about pain. It's all the surface world has to offer, isn't it?”

The other guards nodded in agreement. “You're wrong!” Asriel spat.

Formickey tsk-tsk'd and drew their hand away. “Didn't think a sheltered brat like you would see things from our perspective.” He stood up. “Maybe you should pay more attention to the world around you! It's these humans. Nasty, violent creatures…”

“You're no better.” Asriel said. He struggled against his captors, managing to wrench one arm free, and conjured a sleeve of flames around the other one. The unfortunate captor to his left yelped and staggered back, nursing his burns as Asriel dashed forward with his arms swinging.

Formickey's armored forearms took the brunt of Asriel's attack. He lashed out with a right hook of his own, which Asriel just barely managed to avoid. “Sure, maybe you can say the surface has corrupted us. But our leader taught us well… Taught us that even us sinners can still make it to heaven.”

 _Heaven?_ Monsters had never needed a concept of an afterlife. Unlike humans, monsters knew what happened to their souls when they died. They shattered. They disappeared forever. The idea of an afterlife, whether or not it existed, was a byproduct of humankind's collective determination. “You're not making it to heaven!” Asriel shouted. “I'm taking all of you alive!”

Formickey was surprisingly agile, dodging every swipe, slash, and thrust of Asriel's blade. Asriel realized too late that the ant-man was guiding him into the range of his cohorts, and narrowly avoided a swipe from one of the two unnamed guards' swords. Asriel jabbed the butt of his partisan into the guard's sternum, knocking them to the ground. As the other guard closed in, Asriel threw open his cloak with his left arm and conjured three golden partisans within it, shooting them forward. The blades dug into the guard's right arm, side, and thigh and sent the guard to join their fellow on the ground. They both writhed painfully, alive and conscious, but with no more will to fight.

While Asriel had been dealing with those guards, Formickey had slipped to Asriel's right. The prince saw him out of the corner of his eye and snapped his fingers, conjuring a cluster of spears beneath Formickey's feet and shooting them through the ground and into the air. He put a limit on the spears' strength, making sure they couldn't do enough damage to kill. The ant-man's cloak was torn to shreds, but he nimbly twisted his way through the barrage and threw a punch at Asriel's face, aiming for his good eye. Asriel leaped back and hit something hard and immovable—Talus, the stone-man.

Talus' granite fists came down where Asriel's shoulders had been a fraction of a second before, but Asriel had already ducked and rolled under the guard's splayed legs. He jumped to his feet, throwing his arms out and summoning a cloud of partisans to his left and right. The blades angled themselves toward Talus and flew at the stone guard as he whirled around. The partisans shattered and exploded on impact, burning away Talus' cloak but leaving his body unharmed. Talus was very tall and had exceptionally long arms, and his swinging fist nearly took Asriel's head off.

Snaca slashed at Asriel with her thick, curved fang-talons. Asriel wrapped his cloak tightly around himself and her talons glanced harmlessly off the revolutionary carbon nanofiber fabric. Asriel barely felt it. He wouldn't be surprised if his cloak could handle a direct hit from Talus' mighty fists, but as the stone-man lumbered toward him with arms like hammers, Asriel decided he didn't want to pit soft, squishy fabric (no matter how many “G”'s Alphys had told him it could withstand) against giant rocks. He slid on the wet and slippery tiles, out of range of Talus' attack, and collided with the garden bench. Behind him, Talus' fists smashed into the ground right in front of Snaca. “Watch where you're throwing those things, concrete-brain!” she shouted at him.

“You're getting careless with your attacks, Prince Asriel!” Formickey called out as Asriel extricated his tangled limbs from the metal framework of the bench. His arms and legs were sore and a bit bruised, but luckily, that was the extent of the damage. “You could've sliced me to ribbons with that!”

Asriel smiled. They didn't even know how much he was holding back. He swept his arm out, creating as many spears as he could conjure at one time. Dozens of them hung motionless, pointed at the three turncoat guards. Evaporating raindrops filled the air with steam. The Misanthropy agents froze, trapped. “Your rebellion ends here, Misanthropy.”

“Snaca! Do the thing!” Formickey ordered. Snaca clacked her talons together, and a blue light flashed. Asriel squeezed his eye shut against the blinding light and clenched his fist, commanding his legion of weapons to attack.

The weapons flew _toward_ him. Asriel dispersed them, and was enveloped in a shower of harmless sparks. Had she taken control of his magic? _I've got to disable that ability of hers!_

Asriel readied his _aura regia,_ the same technique he'd used to seal away Zero's temporal trump card. He could see the snake monster's soul in his mind's eye, shining a brilliant aquamarine _…_ he just had to make contact…!

He lunged forward, engulfed in a golden aura. She didn't even move out of the way—her soul was his. As he tackled Snaca, the blue light engulfed the courtyard again, dazzling him.

Asriel opened his eyes, picking himself up off the ground. Confused, he conjured another partisan to his side. Nothing happened.

Asriel snapped his fingers. Nothing. Not even sparks. Somehow… she'd turned his own soul's power against him, and disabled his magic.

Snaca crossed her arms. “Not so tough without your fire magic, huh?”

Asriel dashed over to his fallen umbrella as Snaca lunged forward with her arms outstretched. She jabbed at him with her fang-talons just as Asriel pulled the still-opened umbrella in front of him. Her strikes glanced harmlessly off the umbrella, drawing sparks from the slick, black surface, but she continued her assault, driving Asriel into the bushes.

“Don't think you can just take someone's powers away that easily!” Snaca shouted.

The umbrella showed no sign of breaking, but each strike sent tremors through it, through Asriel's paws. He wormed his thumb into the gap between the sword and its sheath and began to widen it, waiting for a lull in the snake-woman's attacks.

It came, and Asriel flicked the umbrella-sheath forward, drawing the reverse-blade sword he'd received from Alphys and Undyne and charging forward. As the umbrella hit the ground and rolled away, Asriel slashed at Snaca, forcing her onto the defensive. But Snaca was even more agile than Formickey, and easily slipped into Asriel's blind spot.

“Have you ever used a real weapon in your life?” she taunted him as her talons slashed forward, pricking Asriel's left ear. Asriel swung the sword behind him, the blade connecting with Snaca's neck. Everyone stood absolutely still. Time seemed to stop for just a brief moment, and then Snaca started laughing. “Oh my god! It's not even sharp! Mick, get a load of this kid! Fighting us with a toy sword!”

Formickey snickered. “You really think you can keep going down this path, kid?”

“I'm no murderer.”

Formickey shrugged. “We'll see.”

Snaca thrust her arms forward, wrapping one along Asriel's sword, then quickly drew it back, screeching. A thin line of blue blood wrapped along her scaly arm.

“Reverse-blade sword,” Asriel boasted, rolling the hilt around in his palms so that the sharp edge faced forward. He was starting to have _… fun?_ “How fond are you of your arms?”

The ground shook, and Asriel whirled around as Talus closed in on him. He ducked, and the stone-man's mighty fist slammed into Snaca's face. There was a sickening crunch, and as Asriel rolled out from between the two monsters, he saw two cracked and fragmented fangs sail through the air. Snaca hit the ground, moaning incoherently through a shattered jaw.

“Oh, for god's sake, Talus, you clod!” Formickey shouted out. “Let me drive!”

Talus froze in place, then turned to face Asriel. His shoulders slumped and his posture relaxed. It was as if he'd become a completely different person. The rock-man ran toward Asriel, his attacks now surgical and precise. Asriel could barely avoid the flurry of punches. He didn't dare raise his sword and risk breaking the blade.

There was a flash of black, and suddenly Asriel found himself staring into his own bemused face. The rocky fist smashing into his snout seemed to happen in slow motion, and Asriel saw his own body fly backward from the impact, a splatter of blood hanging in the air.

There was another flash of black, and Asriel found himself on the ground, blood pouring from his muzzle. There wasn't a single square inch on his face that didn't hurt.

Formickey walked up beside Talus. “You okay, buddy?”

Talus nodded.

“How 'bout you, Snaca?”

Snaca gurgled a garbled, incoherent curse at him before falling unconscious.

“Well, Asriel, wasn't that fun?”

Asriel stood up, spitting blood. Luckily, none of his teeth felt loose, although he wasn't sure how that was possible. “What the hell was that?”

Formickey crossed his arms. “Would you like another demonstration?”

There was another flash of black, and Asriel found himself staring through a kaleidoscope. His mind couldn't process the information his eyes were feeding him. Wait— _Eyes?_ His ears worked fine, though, or whatever sensory organs he had, and he could hear his own voice calling out to him from across the courtyard. “I'm guessing you've never had compound eyes before, eh?”

Asriel stumbled backward in a body that was too tall for him, too alien for him. His skeleton was on the outside. He didn't even know where his organs were.

His voice came closer. “See, experienced bodyhoppers like me, we get used to taking new bodies. But I mean, for a first timer… Yeah, it can be a bit of a trip.”

Asriel's own blade pierced his chest. Or, Formickey's chest. As ichor trickled out of his chitinous armor, his vision went black again, and Asriel was back in his own body. He reeled backward, lightheaded and dizzy, as Formickey pulled the blade out of his chest and threw it aside.

“And when you get _real_ good, you can take souvenirs from your victims.” Formickey spread out his arms and conjured two fiery polearms, the same exact partisan blades Asriel had made for himself—right down to the spiral vines adorning the shaft. Asriel gaped in shock. His— _his_ weapon— _his_ creation—how could Formickey copy it?

To his relief, the ant-man allowed the weapons in his hands to fade away. “Luckily for you, I'm more of a hands-on guy.”

Asriel conjured another partisan and stabbed at Formickey. He slipped to Asriel's left, into his blind spot, and grabbed hold of the prince's arm with both hands. “You see this, this whole, 'Misanthropy' thing, and you're like, 'Oh, these guys hate humans.' But it's not that simple.” The ant-man pinned Asriel's arm behind his back, straining the shoulder. “What we want is a world that's safe for monsters.”

“If you gave peace a chance—” Asriel protested, jabbing the butt end of his polearm backward. Formickey used his free hand to halt the shaft's movement.

“The man who took out your eye wasn't giving peace a chance. Oh, but Tori and Gorey, they're all about 'peaceful coexistence'!” Formickey wrenched the partisan out of Asriel's hand and pinned him to the ground, his boot pushing the air from Asriel's lungs. “The old man's gone soft, thanks to that shrew of his. And _you're_ the softest of the bunch!”

“Don't you dare—”

Formickey went on. “Our leader saw firsthand the evils of the world and realized before any of us did that the heaven we sought above our heads… was a world without humans. But, haha, good luck convincing you peaceniks of that!”

“If you've got a bone to pick with my dad,” Asriel growled, “why don't you fight _him_ instead of ganging up on his kid?” He tried to push himself up, but the ant-man was too strong.

The ant-man leaned over, resting his hand on his knee, driving his foot deeper into the small of Asriel's back. _“You_ started this fight, remember? Guess you didn't realize you were the jobber here.” He raised his foot, and before Asriel could roll out of the way, stomped down hard. “C'mon, kid. Tap out.” The boot connected with Asriel's kidney and sent a jolt of pain through his side. “Talus! Start the count!”

Asriel pushed himself up on wobbling arms and staggered to his feet. The world hurt, and a furious tremor swept through his body, but he managed to raise his arm and jab a shaking finger in Formickey's direction. “Y-you… You're gonna…”

There was a flash, and a short knife embedded itself in Asriel's paw, its tip piercing through his palm. He cried out as his nerves screamed, and whirled around to see a sixth gray-cloak leap down from the ramparts, a throwing dagger in one hand. _A sniper!?_

He'd gotten this all wrong this whole time. He hadn't ambushed them.

They'd ambushed him.

Asriel clutched at his blood-slicked wrist, his breathing ragged.

“You treat fighting like a sport, don't you, Little Prince?” Formickey and Talus closed in on Asriel. “Undyne taught you all about the martial _arts_ , but not how to _fight._ Not how to _kill._ Basically, kiddo, she taught you _ballet.”_ Formickey chuckled. “Maybe you'd perform better in a tutu?”

Asriel pulled the knife out of his paw. _Asriel, that knife was the only thing plugging up your wound!_ A strangled screech wrenched itself from his throat and gurgled through his gritted teeth as his blood flowed freely onto the ground.

“You're gonna run out of blood, Asriel.”

Asriel glared at Formickey, clenching his fist. His ruined hand hung limply, its tendons torn and useless. Pain sang through his nervous system. “Not… before… you… do…”

_Asriel, don't…_

Asriel took a step forward. The guards took a step back. Formickey's face was inscrutable and Talus' face was stoic, but their hesitation betrayed their fear.

_I'm sorry, Frisk…_

_Asriel, what if you don't come back this time?_

_You've saved me before. You can do it again._ Asriel formed a golden flame around his good hand and drove a burning fist into his ruined hand. He allowed the fire to burn him. He couldn't help but scream as his own fire cauterized his wound. Numbness swept through him. He was starting to feel like a spectator in his own body.

Formickey regained his composure and stepped forward. “Maybe you _do_ know how to fight.” He flung his arms wide, conjuring one of Asriel's partisans in each hand. A second pair of arms unfolded from the ant-man's chest, a polearm materializing in both of those hands as well. Behind Formickey, a massive, floating canine skull materialized, a ring of white light in each empty eye socket, a foggy glow shining through the gaps in its teeth. “Well, what are you waiting for? Come at me! Give me everything you've got, Asriel Dreemurr!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Now I see. You deny your weapon its purpose! It yearns to bath in the blood of your enemies... but you hold it back!"
> 
> "No... My ~~sword~~ spear is a tool of justice."


	18. Dark Determination, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, the fight ends.
> 
> Content warning for graphic violence, brutality, and bloodshed.

Asriel panted, his eyelids heavy, as he stared down the traitorous Formickey. The ant-man twirled his weapons artfully in his four arms. Four arms. Of course he had four arms. He was an insect. Formickey gestured to the two remaining guards. “Take off. We've gathered enough information here.” Talus and the knife-thrower nodded and began to walk away. “Asriel! Don't tell me you've gotten cold feet already!” He was sounding more and more like… _Zero._

Asriel couldn't help but feel as though if he let his remaining eye close, it would never open again. Or maybe it would… but it wouldn't be _him_ who opened it. Asriel could hear Frisk's voice floating over to him on a tide of white noise. _Asriel… I think you really blew talking him down…_

“Come on, Asriel.” Formickey spread all four of his arms wide. “I'll even give you the first shot.”

Asriel couldn't even make his right paw twitch. His palm. His neck. His back. It was hard to focus on the parts of his body that _didn't_ hurt. He conjured a polearm in his left paw, then compacted the weapon into a simple short sword, something he could more easily wield with one arm. Undyne never gave up. Frisk never gave up. _He_ wasn't going to give up either.

Asriel wasn't a southpaw; his strike was weak and imprecise, and Formickey easily blocked it. He stumbled out of the way of the next three attacks. “I thought you'd fight fair!”

“I said I'd give you the first shot, not that I wouldn't defend myself!”

“If you're gonna be that way…” Asriel took off in the other direction, heading toward the retreating guards. The one who'd ruined Asriel's right paw lagged behind the stone giant, somehow. “…I won't fight fair either!”

_Asriel, no!_

The knife-thrower whirled around as Asriel bore down on them, his blazing sword held high. The guard stumbled and tripped over their own cloak as Asriel brought the blade down, severing their right arm. Asriel planted his foot on the injured guard's neck. “Lay down your weapons, Mick. O-or I'll… I'll k-k-kill this one!”

Formickey cocked his head. His mandibles clacked as he laughed. “Oh, you'll k-k-kill them? Are you going to k-k-kill me too?”

The guard gurgled beneath Asriel's boot. Asriel lifted his foot and stepped off of the fallen guard. He had always been a poor liar.

The ant-man nodded slowly. “Little boys like you love to play warrior, but the real thing isn't so fun, is it?” Formickey walked forward, the skull floating behind him trailing like a witch's familiar. “Look, kid, I can tell you don't _really_ want to fight anymore. And hey, if _you_ don't want to fight, _I_ don't want to fight.”

Asriel assumed a defensive stance. “Then why are you here?”

Formickey shrugged. “Well, we were going to kidnap you later tonight, but when we got that bogus text about an emergency meeting, we figured it wouldn't hurt to bump up our schedule by a few hours. And, I mean, we didn't mean to rough you up like this, but, well, you just _had_ to start shit…”

Misanthropy wanted to… _kidnap him?_

Formickey continued. “I mean, you've been getting the calls, right? I guess it's no wonder you're so tough.” He held out one of his flaming partisans and turned it on himself, scoring his chest. Thick black ichor oozed out. The same stuff that had mixed with Zero's blood. Asriel looked down at himself, unable to tell if his own blood had turned black, or if it was just the dim lighting and nasty weather creating that illusion. He started to feel sick again, like he'd felt after that phone call. Cold, tired, and sick. The freezing rain continued to beat down without mercy.

“Looks like Zero wants you. I suppose you know them as Frisk, though.” _Zero wants you._

“You know about… Zero?” _But they're dead… right?_ Asriel shivered, and not just from the cold.

“Look, kid. Misanthropy used to be a bunch of reclusive eggheads trying to figure out the most scientific way to exterminate humanity. Then their leader died and they spent the next few years moping around. But along came Zero. Taking charge. Bringing a bunch of dumb muscle like me into the fold. Now we're like our own little army. All thanks to that magical kid! And I guess they need you.”

_Z̡̢҉̡e̷͜͠r̵̡̨o̸̸̕ ̷̸ņ̕͝͡e̶̵̕͠͝e̴̢͝҉̕d̵͟͡s̵̢ ҉̶̕y̴̕o̴̶̧̨u̕͡.̴̡̛͠_

Asriel screamed and dashed toward Formickey, pushed forward by a rage the likes of which he couldn't remember ever feeling before. Of the thousands of thoughts racing through his head, only one train of thought was coherent: _Zero was alive._ Zero was going to hurt him more. Zero was going to keep hurting him until there was nothing left of him to hurt, and even then, they probably wouldn't stop.

His strikes were wild and, despite their fury, had no real power behind them. Formickey parried each of them easily. “We monsters were always fragile creatures compared to humans! Despite all our magic, all our powers, as long as those savages populate this planet, we will never live in peace!”

“Go to hell!”

“You know we're right! At any time, humankind could wipe us out in an instant! It was only their whims that allowed our species to survive at all!”

“If humans were as bad as you think, they wouldn't have trapped us underground in the first place!”

“No! Instead of exterminating us, they consigned us to a slow and miserable death! We will only know peace when monsters are the sole stewards of the Earth!”

For just an instant, Asriel saw, beneath Formickey's chitinous armor, the demon that comes when people call its name. Asriel had never, as himself, felt such a genuine urge to kill. It had always been _someone else_ to him, be it Flowey or the God of Death. But for now, there was no one else to blame. His killing intent was his own this time.

The garden behind Asriel burst into flames, as if reacting to his will. Asriel felt an unnatural strength coursing through his left arm, pushing his way past the Misanthropy agent's defenses. Formickey was using all four of his partisans— _Asriel's partisans—_ to even barely manage to hold back the prince's sword.

The four blades in between Asriel and his prey shattered, one by one, and at the last moment Formickey leaped backward. The tip of Asriel's sword hit the ground, cracking the stones in front of them. The flames grew higher, smoke trailing into the heavens.

Asriel walked toward Formickey, framed by the red and gold fire burning behind him. The floating skull behind Formickey winked out of existence and appeared in front of him, its cavernous maw gaping wide. A wide and blinding beam of light lanced out toward Asriel, cloaked in a mantle of steam as the raindrops in its way spontaneously evaporated. Asriel dashed to the side, feeling the heat singe his fur. The wall behind him exploded, and a shower of debris pelted his back.

“Was that a warning shot?” Asriel growled. “Or were you trying to kill me?”

The skull vanished again, and two of them appeared on either side of the prince, two more searing beams shooting toward him. Asriel ran out of the way, and the beams passed through each other. Both skulls shattered as the beams impacted them. A third skull appeared right in front of Asriel's nose, giving him almost no time to move out of the way. He ducked and slid under the skull, and the laser passed over his head. Before the skull could dematerialize, Asriel stabbed at it, his blade piercing the bottom of its jaw, but once it vanished, it left nothing behind.

“Who'd you steal _this_ trick from, Mick?”

Formickey scrambled out of Asriel's path and conjured a circle of skulls around the prince. “A friend of yours.” Each skull fired in sequence, and Asriel just barely avoided being reduced to a cinder. As soon as a gap in the sequence presented itself—a single skull that fired just a fraction of a second slower than the others—Asriel cut the skull down and escaped the ring of death.

Formickey was on the other side, backing away from Asriel's attacks. Asriel knew he had to break the turncoat's will to fight quickly—his arm was growing tired and sore. He had to break Formickey… or kill him. “So, Mick, I can't help but wonder… If you're worried about humans being so much stronger than us… Why not just kidnap some of the humans here and take their souls for your own?”

Formickey caught Asriel's sword with the crossguard of his partisan and twisted it out of Asriel's hand, the guard's other partisan hitting Asriel's shoulder. “That whole deal? It's pretty overrated, really. Remember the last time a monster took a human's soul? Didn't end so well for _him,_ did it, boy?”

The blade glanced off Asriel's cloak and slid over his collar, cutting a gash in his left ear. Asriel grasped the hilt and wrenched it out of Formickey's grip, then brought the butt down hard on the guard's abdomen even as Formickey thrust his own blade toward Asriel's unprotected chest. Just before the blade could pierce the prince's heart, Formickey's arms fell limp, and the partisan, carried forward by its own momentum, lanced through Asriel's side. The pain was excruciating. A black cloud crept into the corners of Asriel's sight. It hurt. Asriel stumbled away, clutching at his side as blood poured through his fingers. He knew what he had to do, but—he couldn't bring himself to cauterize the wound.

Formickey was pulling himself together as well. “It's over, kid. You put up a good fight…”

Asriel conjured a partisan in front of him, letting it hang in the air. The blade, pointed squarely at Formickey, smoked and sputtered in the rain. “You've lost.”

Formickey laughed. Ichor leaked from between his mandibles. “In five minutes, which of us is going to bleed out first?”

The traitor had a point. No matter how depthless Asriel's reserves of magical energy were, it was of no importance if his body gave out first. Asriel could barely see, let alone stand up.

“Come with us, Prince Asriel. Back to Zero. We've got some great doctors. You won't last long on your own like this.”

“No.”

“You'll die. And man, Zero will be pissed.”

Asriel's breathing was ragged. With each inhale and exhale, the black tunnel consuming his sight grew just a little deeper. “S… s-so be it.” He spat out the words spitefully.

“Even if by some miracle you survive the night… you'll never be allowed to make this decision again. No matter how important you are to Zero.”

“I'll never join you.”

“So be it.” To Asriel's astonishment, Formickey began to crumble away, even as he raised a single arm toward the prince. “We'll meet again, Asriel… on the other side of Heaven.” The Misanthropy agent's domed eyes cracked and caved in as his innards crumbled into dust and blew away, even though there was no wind to carry the dust. A single white jewel remained as the guard disappeared, but that quickly broke apart into scattered fragments as well.

Within a few seconds, the ant-man's body had completely turned to dust. Asriel was left alone in the burning courtyard, surrounded by the detritus of battle. The other fallen guards had crumbled away just as Formickey had done, carried on an invisible wind over the castle walls and into the sky. Asriel was certain Flowey had seen the deaths of many monsters, but he had very few memories of that time in his… _un-_ life. _This_ was the first time he'd seen a monster—one of his own kind—die in front of him. He wasn't counting that time he'd died. That was different.

Asriel staggered into the castle on legs he could barely feel, leaving a trail of blood in his wake, and collapsed on the wood floor of the living room. His survival instincts had spared him the great majority of the pain from his injuries, but now, with the battle over, the floodgates had been released. Every ache, every sting, every burn and cut and stab wound was contributing to an electrical storm running through his nerves. He could his blood soaking into the wood. It was red. Not even a speck of black.

Asriel formed a flame in his palm. He had to stop the bleeding. “Frisk…” he croaked. “Give me a hand here.”

_W-what am I supposed to do?_

Asriel's paw hovered over the wound in his gut. He wasn't sure what was going to hurt more: the wound as it was now, or the burn. But when all you had was fire, every problem looked like kindling. “Take my mind off the pain. Sing me a song. Tell me a story. Anything you can think of.”

_Asriel, just call for an ambulance. Please don't set yourself on fire, okay?_

“I need to stop the bleeding.”

 _Please, please,_ please _don't set yourself on fire._

Asriel decided not to set himself on fire. With a great deal of effort, he reached his bedroom and found his phone. His blood-slicked fingers fumbled with the touchscreen, but he was able to connect to the nearest emergency service and call for help. The phone slipped to the floor, and Asriel followed along. He still had one call he wanted to make. He dialed the number, and prayed that somebody would pick up.

The phone rang once, twice, three times before someone picked up. _“Asriel!”_ Toriel's voice came through the speaker tinny and fuzzy. _“How unexpected! Have you been enjoying your stay-cation?”_

For a moment, Asriel's relief numbed all of his pain. Misanthropy had lied to him—his parents were still alive! “It's been all right,” he lied, trying very hard to stop his voice from betraying his feeling. “I just missed you and Dad, that's all.”

 _“We miss you too, Asriel. We_ _will_ _bring you on_ _our_ _next vacation, okay? To be honest, your father and I have been quite lonely on our own up here._ _Did you see the pictures I sent?”_

“Yeah… Looks like a lot of fun to me.” It was getting hard to speak. A hoarse voice and a throat full of tears strangled the words as they came out. “Mom? I'm kinda sick right now. Gonna go to bed a little early tonight… how about I call you back tomorrow?”

_“That is fine, my child. You do sound quite unwell tonight! Please, do what you need to take care of yourself. I hope you start feeling better soon.”_

“Me too, Mom. I love you.”

_“I love you too, Asriel.”_

The call disconnected, leaving Asriel alone with his thoughts.

“Are you okay up there, Frisk?”

_I'm more worried about you. Are you gonna make it?_

“There you go again.” Asriel shivered on the cold floor. “Always putting other people first.”

_I've got a pretty good idea of what'll happen to me if you die. I'm surprised we're still alive at all, actually._

“Determination. I learned it from you.”

_I—I'm flattered, Asriel._

Asriel could hear a siren growing louder outside the castle. He chuckled bleakly. “Too bad the pacifist stuff hasn't rubbed off on me too, huh?”

_Do you… do you think I'm upset by that?_

“Why wouldn't you be?” Asriel shivered. Everything felt so cold. “I killed tonight, Frisk. I fought them until they all died. For a while back there… I thought I was becoming the God of Death again.”

 _The Absolute God of Hyperdeath,_ Frisk corrected.

“Oh my god…” Asriel moaned. “I really called myself that…?”

_Yep._

Asriel could hear footsteps down the hall. He tried to call out, but could barely manage a whisper. He could barely see anymore; each breath was harder to draw than the last. He wasn't turning into dust yet, but… maybe things worked differently when you had a fragment of a human soul powering your body, instead of a natural monster soul. He closed his eye. It didn't make much of a difference anymore.

_Asriel, hang on…_

“I'll be okay,” he muttered before sleep took him. Asriel didn't know if he'd wake up from this. He hoped he would.

 – 

For a while, there was darkness, silence, and nothing. Gradually, Asriel became aware of his body. It was fuzzy, as if his entire body were made of the static of a dead channel on TV, but Asriel could discern four limbs, a torso, and a head. Perhaps this was death— _real_ death, _permanent_ death. This was it. This was the end. He'd died in his sleep. At least it hadn't hurt.

Whispers wormed their way through the darkness. Scarcely audible, clustered together, incoherent. He tried to call out, but no sound escaped his mouth. Asriel was completely immoble. Eventually, as the whispers grew in volume, Asriel could distinguish a single word in the rising cacophony. It was—what else could it be?— _Zero._

A door materialized in the middle of the abyss. It was a grand, yet simply-crafted door carved from dark, rich wood, unadorned except for a burnished brass doorknob. Asriel could see his own hand reaching out, unbidden, for the door. Despite the numbness consuming his body, he could feel the cold metal press against his paw pads. The door swung open, revealing, on the other side—

A smiling child with pale skin and wide red eyes stood in front of Asriel. Their emerald-green sweater, several sizes too big for them, hung from their thin, lanky (one might say, nearly _skeletal_ ) frame. Deep blue-gray bags under their eyes made the crimson irises seem to shine in comparison. Chara, the first fallen human, reached out and took Asriel's paw in their hand. Their voice rang out in Asriel's mind.

_We could have had everything._

A thin scar traced itself up Chara's cheek, bisecting their eye and creeping across their forehead, vanishing under their long, brown hair. A similar scar on the opposite side of their face cut down from their forehead, over their other eye, and crossed over their mouth, welling up drops of thick blood on their lips. The whites of Chara's eyes faded away, leaving only scarlet embers hanging in the darkness.

_You could have had me._

The scars widened into cracks and broke open, widening and splitting into spiderwebs of gaping, empty fissures. But issuing forth from the darkness was a steadily growing network of white crystals, like newly-frozen frost over a pond, which stitched themselves over the scars and cracks. The icy white spread over Chara's body, shaping itself into a coat of ivory fur streaked with black, as the child's hair turned silver and curved horns sprouted from their forehead. Their muzzle cracked open, revealing a mouth filled with razor teeth, and Asriel found himself staring up into a dark mirror. Staring at himself, at a vision of what he once had been—the angel who rose from the underworld.

_I could have had you._

The Asriel-doppelganger faded away, crumbling into dust as Asriel himself had done so long ago on that miserable day, leaving behind a white-hot glowing heart seared into the darkness like an inverted silhouette, a hole in the fabric of nothingness. Two dully-burning red rings where Chara's eyes had been bored into Asriel, meeting his unwilling gaze.

 _Zero could have had…_ both _of us._

 –

Asriel found himself in his own bedroom—not his current bedroom, but his old room. His _first_ room. He looked himself over, not finding a trace of any of the injuries he'd accumulated the previous night. A child with unruly brown hair sat cross-legged on the foot of the bed. His eyes met theirs, and Asriel's breath caught in his throat. Sometimes he still saw Chara when he looked at his mind's extra tenant. The bed across from Asriel's—Chara's bed—lay empty, its covers perfectly tucked in a way the ones on Chara's bed never had been. Chara had never willingly made their bed in all the time they'd lived in the Dreemurr household, and when Toriel would tidy up for them, they would nearly immediately un-tidy whatever had been tidied, just out of spite.

Asriel looked to his side. The floor was covered in golden, wind-swept sand.

Well, if his physical condition hadn't clued him in by now, that was enough of a hint to let him know that this was a dream.

“Hi, Asriel.”

“Hey, Frisk.” Asriel pulled himself out of his bed and stood up, then yelped as the hot sand scorched the bottoms of his feet. He returned to the safety of the bed, curling up with his paws around his knees.

“It's not quite 'the-floor-is-lava', but… well, I guess one of us wanted to be in a desert.” Frisk shrugged.

Asriel looked around the room. With the exception of the floor, and window letting in a sharp ray of sunlight, it was the exact bedroom he'd remembered. “I guess this means we're alive?”

“Or we're in purgatory.”

Asriel took a deep breath. The air was crisp, like the air of a dry day in early Autumn. It tasted and smelled like outside-air, not inside-air. “So, uh…” Asriel swallowed. “You're… you don't still… I mean, you're okay with me? Really?”

Frisk raised an eyebrow. “Yeah.”

“But I… I lost control, and I killed…”

“Well, who am I to judge? You did something bad, you know it's bad, and you're gonna work extra hard not to do it again. I didn't make friends with Undyne and Alphys and your dad by judging them, even though _they_ did some bad things. Besides, uh…” Frisk looked down at their toes. “Um, I… I kinda, er… I did something really, really horrible once.”

“What's the matter?” Asriel laughed nervously. “You snuck a bag of chips before supper?”

“I, uh, I didn't really have that happy of a life.” Frisk was trying very hard to avoid meeting Asriel's eye. “I'd heard stories about—about the mountain, and thought if I Explored it, if I Found Something Important, maybe people would care about me. But when I fell underground I was… well, I was really scared, and I… I made some mistakes.”

“D-did you _kill_ someone?”

Frisk inhaled sharply. “…Yeah.”

“Who?” Asriel dreaded the answer, but steeled himself. No matter what Frisk had done, he'd forgive them, just as Frisk kept doing for him.

“M… T—T—”

“…You killed _Mettaton?”_

Frisk shook their head. “…Toriel.”

_“Mom!?”_

Frisk sniffled and nodded. “Sh—she scared me.”

Before he'd even realized it, Asriel had grabbed Frisk by the neck. “You _killed_ my _mom!?”_

“It was an—” they choked.

“You've got a lot of nerve, acting like you're scared of my whole 'inner darkness' deal wh—when you're going around k-killing, _killing people's moms!”_

Frisk grabbed Asriel's furry wrists. _“Hurts…”_

Asriel looked down. His claws were digging into the human's neck. He could barely even feel the phantom child's skin in this dream-world; their body was little more substantial than a ghost's. Little rivulets of blood were starting to run across their skin. He let go of Frisk, who spent a few seconds massaging their neck. Their hand came away smeared with a little bit of blood.

Frisk coughed. “It's okay. I deserved that.”

Asriel was still processing what the human had told him. “I guess I'm… not the only murderer in this room, then.” But still—it was his _mother._ But what if one of the Misanthropy agents he'd fought had been a mother, too? “Looks like you're no better than I am,” he added coldly.

Frisk hung their head in penance. They and Asriel sat next to each other in silence for a long time. The light streaming through the window faded to twilight, and in the silence, all Asriel could hear was his own breathing, and the human's. Asriel thought for a while. It seemed he had Frisk all figured out. Who tried harder to be a good person than someone who'd made a royal screw-up? And yet forgiveness does not always come easily.

“You're lucky you made that mistake back when you could still turn back time.”

“If you'd like me to go away for a while, I _…_ I'd understand.”

“Where would you go, Frisk?”

Frisk didn't answer. They curled themselves up, burying their face in their knees.

Asriel repeated the question.

Frisk didn't listen. “She told me _…_ told me to prove to her I was strong enough to survive on my own. I thought if I fought her, she'd _…_ let me go.” Frisk still avoided meeting Asriel's eyes. “I didn't realize until then _…_ how fragile _…_ How fragile _…_ you all are. _We_ all are.” Frisk paused. “I know you like to fight. I don't. But even I fought when I had to. What I regretted _…_ was fighting when I didn't.”

“I—”

“We have to do what we can. If we don't stop Zero _…_ ” They took a deep, shuddering breath, filled with trepidation. “It'll be my fault if Tori—i-if Mom—if _any of them—_ die. Again. So fight, Asriel. I'll help you do whatever it takes to keep this world safe from them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! Act Three will begin after a few short interludes.


	19. Interlude I - Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this interlude, Toriel and Asgore cut their vacation short.

_“What I do not understand, Papyrus, is why all these rogues were wearing badges that say… 'hamburger thief'.”_

_“I think it's supposed to be the English word 'misanthropy', My Ladyship. Written in the ancient tongue.”_

_“But the ancient tongue_ has _a word for 'misanthropy'._ This _says 'misha'—that means 'thief'—and 'turophi'—that's grilled meat on a bun.”_

_“It kinda sounds like 'misanthropy' if you put it together and say it really fast, Tori.”_

_“Yes, I have noticed that, dear. But there is nothing connecting the words. You need to have 'fo' in there for it to be grammatically correct. Misha fo turophi. Thief of meat bun.”_

_“Clearly, these criminals aren't very intelligent. 'The Parable of the Meat Buns' is a story every monster learns in grade school! Why, I still have the entire first paragraph committed to memory…”_

_“Uh, hey, Your Highnesses? I think I just saw Asriel move.”_

_“What?”_

_“Out of the way, Sans!”_

Asriel jolted awake. As if it wasn't bad enough that his entire body had gone through a meat tenderizer, his throat felt like sandpaper and his nose felt like someone had poured concrete into his nostrils. He wasn't in his own bed, but rather a far less comfortable hospital bed. He couldn't get a very good look at his surroundings, though, because his parents were in the way. Asgore and Toriel looked ragged, their eyes bloodshot, their fur unkept. Asgore's golden beard and mane had lost its luster. “…Asriel?” Toriel asked. Her voice was hoarse.

“How are you feeling, son?” Asgore asked.

Asriel could barely even manage to get a croak through his throat. “I've had better beds.” Neither of his parents seemed amused. “You're home early…”

Asgore cleared his throat. “Asriel, just what was going through your head last night?”

“I _…_ ” Asriel was racked with a coughing fit.

Toriel patted him on the shoulder. “I will get you some water.” She turned around. “Papyrus? Sans? Would one of you care to fetch us a glass of water?”

“I just wanted to keep the kingdom safe _…_ ” When Asriel said it out loud, it almost sounded stupid. “I was gonna try to handle things peacefully, but… But they said, said that they'd already killed you two and—And I had to stop them. I-I had to make sure they couldn't hurt or kill anyone else _…_ ”

“Asriel _…_ ” Toriel said. “By the time you had reached the hospital, it was almost too late for you. The b-blood loss and hypothermia _…_ ”

“But I'm all right now, Mom.” Asriel tried to smile. Even his jaw hurt. “I-I'm all right… Everything worked out in the end, right…?”

Toriel patted his heavily-bandaged right paw. Her smile was tortured. “Asriel. The one time in your life you were this close to death, you—My child, what did you do to your paw?”

“It got stabbed, and I was really bleeding a lot, and I…” Asriel tried to manage a sheepish grin. “I tried to burn the wound shut to stop the bleeding.”

Toriel and Asgore both wore looks of utter horror. Asriel should have known a nonchalant attitude wouldn't have dulled the impact. Toriel shared a pained, knowing expression with her husband and then turned back to Asriel, taking a deep breath. “Asriel. I know you want to be a great warrior, like your father once was _…_ But please, try to understand. We are your mother and father. Your life is far more precious to us than ours. Please, do not throw it away on foolish fights like this. It is more important that you live… more than any goal you could accomplish by dying.”

“Your mother and I were still young during the War, Asriel.” Asgore looked exhausted. “Young enough that… after the first few years underground, it was easy to forget the sun, the sky…”

“Life was hard for all of us in those days.” A bony hand tapped Toriel on the shoulder. “Oh, thank you, Papyrus.” She handed Asriel a glass of water. It was tepid, but to Asriel it tasted better and colder than anything he'd ever drunk before. “Years turned into decades. Decades turned into centuries. It was a truly miserable existence.”

Asriel was confused. What was the history lesson for? He knew the whole story already.

“Eventually, our imprisonment became normal to us. Children were born, lived, and died without ever seeing the sun, or feeling the wind on their faces. As we adjusted to our lives, your mother and I decided that maybe… Perhaps it was not such a crime to bring a child of our own into that world.”

“And then,” Toriel continued with a wistful half-smile, “Chara came into our world, as well. And the two of you… your friendship showed the whole kingdom that there was still reason enough to hope for a better future.”

Chara. Zero. Hope. Asriel tried to hide an involuntary scowl. It all felt like a sick joke that such a cruel person could inspire so much good in the world, and then take it away.

“And then, you…” Toriel started.

“We died,” Asriel finished for her.

“And with you, what little hope we had left died as well. In my despair, I declared war, and took the lives of innocents.” Asgore's shoulders slumped.

“And in my despair, I abandoned our kingdom in its darkest hour. Although your father's grief had a higher body count—” Toriel couldn't help but flash a quick glare at her husband— “I, too, was not without blame. And despite the few amenities we had created for ourselves, despite the almost-comfortable existence we had eked out in the depths of the mountain, life became bleaker and more depressing than ever before. Asriel—losing you the first time nearly destroyed us. Why would you risk putting us—putting _our kingdom_ —through that kind of pain again?”

Asriel struggled for an answer. _Because Zero is still alive, and I'm the only one who can stop him_ did not seem like it would convince his parents of anything.

Toriel hugged him close. Asriel could hear her nearly-inaudible struggle to hold back tears as his face sank into her soft robes. “Asriel. My child. We know you've been through many horrible ordeals, and I sincerely apologize on both of our behalves… for not doing enough for you. I cannot imagine how these past few years have affected you. But you have my word that your father and I will do everything in our power to make you well again.”

Asriel shuddered. He could feel his own tears dampening the fur around his eyes. His mother's words were nothing to him but so much noise. It hurt so much knowing that, whether or not he sought Zero out, no matter what his parents did to protect him, the two of them would meet again. They were still connected, and would always be, until one of them was dead. And one of them, or the other, would break his parents' hearts. Didn't she understand? Couldn't any of them understand how much he needed to fight? “I'm afraid,” he admitted, choking on his sobs. “I'm afraid I won't be able to… I won't be strong enough to… to do what I need to do…” His gaze met his mother's tired, desperate eyes. “Will you and Dad help me?”

“We will do whatever must be done to protect you, Asriel. Children must not die for their parents' sake. We cannot allow ourselves to live in that world any longer.”

The tears hurt. They still didn't understand. “No…” Asriel sniffled. “No, Mom, Dad… _You're_ the ones _I_ need to protect. A-and I need to be stronger…  Strong enough to fight without dying…”

_Stronger than both of you._


	20. Interlude II - Alphys' New Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this interlude, Alphys meets someone she's never heard of before.

Alphys had been locked up for a few days and her captors hadn't asked her to do anything. She was starting to wonder if she was being shanghaied, or just held for ransom. For all she knew, maybe King Asgore would pay millions of dollars to get her back. Her prison cell was surprisingly comfortable—the floor was carpeted, the cupboard was filled with cup ramen, there was even a surprisingly robust computer loaded with dating sims the likes of which she had never imagined. No internet access, of course. They'd even gotten her a new pair of glasses. Not that dating sims were of much value when you were already dating a smoking hot warrior goddess who was at this very moment plotting to bust you out of this joint, but she appreciated the gesture.

There was a knock on the door. It was one of the Misanthropy guards. They towered over Alphys, but then again, considering she stood at just under four and a half feet, the vast majority adult humans and many monsters did. “A-are you here to break me out?”

The guard laughed. Alphys let out a weak laugh, hoping they'd think it was just a joke. “I'm here to bring you to your new lab partner.”

“Y-yeah… of course…” Alphys followed the guard out of her cell. She hadn't seen the outside before—they'd blindfolded her and, just for good measure, sedated her just before pulling her out of the car. But she easily recognized the halls she was being led down. The burnished blue metal paneling, the exposed red tubing and wiring, the gently throbbing hum of magical electricity—it was the Core. Misanthropy had brought her back underground.

The corridors twisted and turned in configurations Alphys had never known the Core's modular construction could support. “So, i-is this you guys's base? I-I mean, if I needed a base, I could do a lot w-worse than a giant magical power plant. D-do you need someone to maintain or r-repair it? Because I can do those things, you know. I mean, I know this place like the back of my hand! Uh, maybe not all of it, but most of it!”

The guard brought her down a corridor she wasn't familiar with, to an elevator she'd never seen before. The elevator ride was brief, but uncomfortable nonetheless. Alphys caught a glimpse of the guard's badge. “Um, excuse me, but why does your badge say 'hamburger thief'?”

“What?”

“Er, my Old Monsterish is r-really rusty, I only learned a bit of it, but it definitely says 'hamburger thief'. A-are you that guy Mettaton kept talking to me about? Burgerface?”

“I'm not Burgerpants,” the guard said with not a note of irritation, but an entire symphony of irritation. “And it says 'misanthropy'.”

“No, it doesn't. It says 'meat bun thief'. Didn't you read 'The Parable of the Meat Buns' in school?”

The guard looked down at her. Alphys could tell they were scowling through their scarf.

Alphys tried to smile. “I-It's a really nice badge, otherwise, though!” She tried desperately to move to a different conversation topic. “S-so, how do you handle cooling? Do you just have, like, your biggest and burliest soldiers out there in Snowdin hauling ice blocks? How'd you turn this thing back on, anyway? The only one with admin level system privileges is me… and, I guess, the guy who built this place. Maybe Asgore would have them too?”

“Save your questions for your lab partner.”

Finally, they reached the what Alphys presumed was the entrance to the lab. “Hey, wait. The Core didn't have a lab.”

“It does now.” The guard opened the door, prodded Alphys through (which was very unnecessary of them), and locked the door behind her. Alphys looked around. It was a large room, with several banks of computers lining the walls, and a messy collection of tools and machinery heaped on a ceramic workbench. A tall, pale whitish-gray monster in matte black clothing stood in front of one computer, hands folded behind his back, oblivious to the outside world.

“Uh… Hello?” Alphys waved tentatively at the mysterious figure, who simply shook his head and tapped a few times on the computer's touchscreen. Their other arm remained pinned to his back. She wandered past the workbench, running her scaly claws along the surface, stopping at a scale model of something she recognized very well.

The angular cockpit, the insectoid arms and articulated treads, the two turbines mounted on the sides of its fuselage—it was her own creation: the Peace Roller. Alphys' heart skipped a beat. _Was my lab partner the person who completed the Peace Roller for Zero?_ _she thought._

Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and Alphys nearly leaped a foot off of the ground. She whirled around and saw her lab partner looking down at her. His head was like an egg that had been flattened on the sides, and had the texture of bone. Two long, deep scars ran up and down the monster's face, each bisecting his eyes. One ran down his cheek, the other up his forehead. Two pricks of light shone in his black eye sockets. The monster's mouth was drawn in a tight, straight line.

“Uh… Hi?”

The monster handed Alphys a card. Alphys squinted at the nearly-illegible scrawl and managed to decipher it. _Hello. Do you understand sign language?_

“S-sign language? I mean, I'm not totally fluent, but if you go slowly…”

The monster grinned, eyes brightening, and started to sign frantically with one hand. His right hand remained pinned to his back, but Monster Sign Language had been designed to accommodate a wide range of monster physiology, and could just as easily be used with one hand (or no hands). Alphys did her best to keep up.

[Thank you so much! What is your name?]

“Uh, I'm Alphys… Doctor Alphys. I do a lot of roboting… er, _robotics_ work, and also some biotech stuff…”

The monster's mouth opened in shock. [You are Doctor Alphys? _The_ Doctor Alphys?]

Alphys nodded. “Yep. _The_ Doctor Alphys. I guess.”

The monster shook her hand vigorously, then went back to signing. [Hello, Doctor Alphys. Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Doctor W. D. Gaster. And as your fellow genius, I eagerly anticipate working with you!]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Act Three begins next week.


	21. Gaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we meet the monster time forgot.

Doctor W. D. Gaster could feel the contented throbbing and humming of the Core beneath his feet, the lovely tingle of the energy surrounding him traveling up his legs every time his polished black boots met the burnished blue steel floors. The walls were so clean, he could nearly see his own reflection in them. He kept his arms pinned behind his back as he signed for the benefit of the guest following behind him.

[Now, this is the Core running at less than one percent capacity. Within the next few years, sir, I expect to get it running to almost five percent!]

“I think you should put in some carpets,” King Asgore Dreemurr suggested as both his and Gaster's footsteps echoed through the halls. All of his fur stood on end. “Isn't all the noise distracting?”

[Carpets are inefficient, My Lordship. And much harder to clean. If one wishes to work here, they must have an appreciation for the sound of metal.]

“Now, you said… Five percent, was it? How much power is that, exactly?”

[The Core in its current state powers nearly half of New Home. Once it reaches five percent capacity, it will be able to provide electricity to all the Underground… for ten thousand years!] Gaster looked down and saw that he had begun gesticulating in front of himself, instead of behind himself. He made an about-face, turning 180 degrees on his heel, and began walking backward, repeating his last sentence to the King.

“Hmm. Those are very impressive numbers. But how is this more necessary than the geothermal stations we use now, Doctor?”

[Geothermal energy is… sufficient, yes. Functional. But the Core far outclasses it in elegance! It does not derive its energy from the Earth!]

“Doctor Gaster…”

[How can we look to the future, King Asgore? Our future free of these shackles, this earthen sky?]

“Um, Gaster, you…” Asgore pointed behind the scientist.

[Our reliance on the core of the planet ties us to this prison, and—]

Gaster stopped in his tracks as his back pressed against the door at the end of the corridor. [Oops.] He keyed his access code into the pad to the side of the door and the door slid open with a satisfying _whoosh_. He loved the doors!

Gaster continued monologuing as he led Asgore down another, identical hallway. [When we break through the Barrier, King Asgore, we will have the chance to spread across the Earth's surface. And with the limitless energy production of the Core, we will have the power to create a civilization more vast and limitless than any we have dreamed of! Even the stars will be within our grasp!]

Asgore stroked his beard. “The stars… I can only barely remember what they looked like. I was scarcely in my thirties when the War ended. But you, Doctor, you've never seen them before, have you?”

Gaster shook his egg-shaped head. [No, sir. I hope to see them for myself before my life ends… perhaps even up close. Just imagine, King Asgore, what kind of society we can build when our souls are no longer weighed down by Earth's gravity!]

“Gaster…”

[Door?] Gaster turned around one step away from hitting another door. [Thank you, my King.] He keyed in his access code again. [Now, King Asgore, I am sure you have one question on your mind… 'Where does the energy come from?']

“Um… Yes, actually. Will this have consequences?”

[Let me show you.] The door opened, and Gaster led Asgore to a catwalk overlooking a dark abyss. He leaned over the railing and, with a wave of his skeletal hand, led the King to his side.

Asgore stared into the darkness. “What am I looking at, Doctor Gaster?”

Gaster pulled two black visors from his waistcoat. [Put this on.] Asgore did so, and gasped. Gaster had seen the sight enough times that it no longer produced such a reaction, but he still found it… incredibly beautiful. Rainbow-colored threads snaked through the abyss, appearing out of nowhere and disappearing into oblivion just as quickly as they'd appeared, sparkling and shimmering. [I call this part of the Core… the 'Zero Engine'. You see, the Core derives its power not from the Earth, my lord… _but from the very cosmos itself.]_

“My son…” Asgore's voice was an awed whisper. “He would love to see this…”

[Bring him with you on your next inspection!] Gaster did not relish the thought of babysitting, but by all standards, the young Prince Asriel was a very well-behaved boy. That Chara, on the other hand—if Gaster could forbid the child from setting foot within a mile of the Core, he would.

 –

King Asgore did bring his son on his next visit. Little Asriel had a grasp of MSL that was barely even rudimentary, unfortunately, but the King dutifully translated everything Gaster had to say for the royal tyke. Despite Gaster's usual feelings about children, there was something quite endearing about Asriel's enthusiasm, and the scientist couldn't help but smile when the prince, upon seeing the Zero Engine in its majesty, voiced an involuntary expletive he'd no doubt learned from his adoptive sibling. Asgore let out a hearty laugh and begged both Asriel and Gaster not to tell the Queen about Asriel's outburst.

Gaster could feel in his bones that Asriel had the same passion he had: the passion to see the surface, and maybe even the universe beyond. Perhaps, given five to ten more years of education, the boy would have a similar passion for science as well. How wonderful would it be to have Prince Asriel himself as a lab assistant?

[If Asriel begins to show an interest in the sciences,] Gaster signed to the King as Asgore held Asriel a safe distance from the railing, [it would be an honor to for me to tutor him myself.]

Asriel squirmed in his father's arms. “I want a closer look!” he protested.

“No, you don't,” Asgore reassured him. “If you fall down in here, you'll… You'll… Doctor Gaster, what would happen if anyone fell into the Zero Engine?”

[The tachyon density is far too low to produce any ill effects, so you'd probably break your spine after falling five dozen feet and hitting the floor.]

“The tacky-ons will break your soul into a million pieces!” Asgore warned his son.

Asriel held onto his father's neck and buried his little face in the king's flaxen beard. “I don't want my soul to break in a million pieces!” he cried.

Gaster never got a chance to tutor Asriel. At the very least, the poor boy was able to visit the Core a few more times before he met his untimely end.

– 

A long time had passed since that day. Asriel Dreemurr's death had proven conclusively to all of the Underground that, even if monsters could live in peace with a few specific humans, the human race, as a whole, would never be willing to live in peace with them. Gaster was just as convinced as any of his peers that if monsterkind was truly destined to live on the surface once again, they would have to live on it alone.

The crowd roared as King Asgore brought another human to justice. Doctor Gaster crossed his arms grumpily and scowled. It was really quite amazing that Asgore was lucky enough to make such progress, whereas Gaster still had yet to find a way past the Barrier. King Asgore had announced his plan just mere days after the funeral—to collect seven human souls and, as a being of limitless power, visit a terrible and just vengeance on the human world. The monsters had cheered—oh, how they had cheered!—but Gaster had not been impressed. Especially when Asgore had announced that his plan was to wait for six more human souls to fall into the Underground.

Gaster had been the opposite of impressed. In fact, he had been disgusted. All the King had to do was use the one soul to pass through the Barrier, and then collect six more on the other side. Choosing instead to wait for six more humans—that was lunacy. That was cowardice . Evidently, the death of his son had broken the King's spirit. And apparently, Queen Toriel was just as aware of her husband's frailty as Gaster was, and had abandoned her throne. Gaster had heard that the shouting match between her and Asgore had been the stuff of legends.

Gaster was still flummoxed by the Barrier . The only way to get close to the Barrier and analyze its composition was to pass through Asgore's throne room, and while Gaster had no qualms about working behind the king's back, he doubted that Asgore would allow him to undermine his own quote-unquote “plan” . And so working on the Barrier problem was like trying to find a black cat in a dark room.

The six other scientists who'd joined Gaster over the years—his disciples, in a sense—were gathered around him, each clad in the same gray cloak and black scarf Gaster sported. Bahaus, Garamond, Verdana, Helvetica, and Courier had been with him from the beginning. And then there was Impact, his newest recruit, a brilliant mind Gaster hoped would prove infinitely useful to Misanthropy. Three of them—Garamond, Helvetica, and Impact—were skeleton monsters, just like Gaster. The other three were not, but had taken traditional skeleton names in honor of Gaster. He had been flattered.

Impact took his seat next to the Royal Scientist, arms brimming with two massive tubs of popcorn. “Yeesh, you really picked us some seats in the nosebleed section, didn't you?” Impact said as he plopped one tub of popcorn on Gaster's lap. “Good thing neither of us have noses.”

Gaster picked at the popcorn. His fingers came away slick and oily. [Butter?] He hated any food that got his hands dirty.

“Sorry. I forgot the napkins.”

[I heard you brought this human in, Impact. Proud of yourself?]

“Nothing to be proud of.” Impact shrugged. “They didn't even pass my first puzzle. I can't even laugh about such an easy triumph…” The skeleton pouted.

[So barbaric.] Gaster watched as Asgore raised his trident high overhead and brought it down on the human. There was a slight, near-imperceptible hesitance in the King's movements. Gaster could see what the rest of the gathered monsters were far too eager to notice, the way Asgore cast a hurried, nervous glance throughout the coliseum as if hoping to be galvanized by his subjects' enthusiasm. Neither he nor Impact looked away as the human's red blood pooled beneath their body, trickling between the stone bricks. [The things we do in the name of freedom.]

Gaster fruitlessly rubbed his thumb and forefinger on the edge of the popcorn tub, hoping to cleanse his oily fingers. [How is your research going? Still studying extra-temporal communications?]

“Actually, I'm holding off on that until I get a message from my future self. That way I know it's not a waste of time.”

Gaster struggled to repress a smile and failed. [Impact, have you ever given any real thought to our civilization's future?]

“Well, uh… Can you keep a secret, Professor?”

Gaster held a finger to his mouth. [My lips are sealed, my boy.]

“I'm gonna…” He leaned over and whispered to the Royal Scientist. _“I'm gonna ask Garamond on a date!”_

[You want to raise a family of your own?]

“I just hope our kids get my sense of humor.”

[Not your brains?]

“A good laugh can get you through life a lot easier than a good brain, nyeh-heh.”

The crowd cheered again as Asgore held up the human's freshly-harvested soul, now hovering safely inside a cylindrical glass container. It was a bright orange. Gaster scanned the crowd, and thought he saw someone he hadn't seen in many years on the opposite side of the stadium. She was wearing a raggedy, faded-violet cloak, its hood drawn far down to obscure her face, but her identity couldn't be hidden from Gaster's keen eyes. There weren't very many giant white-furred women in the kingdom.

Toriel Dreemurr.

Gaster tapped on Verdana's shoulder. Verdana jumped and began fidgeting with his cloak, hiding the bit of his mustard-yellow suit that peeked out. His voice came from the crystal orb he carried in his hands. “I apologize for appearing unkempt. Next time I will make an attem—”

Gaster laid his hand over the orb, silencing Verdana. [I am not concerned with your clothing this time, Verdana.] He directed the pale green-skinned monster's attention to the incognito queen-in-exile. [Verdana. I wish to speak with that woman in violet. You and Courier, keep an eye on her and make sure we run into each other.]

Verdana nodded and handed their orb over to the diminutive, orange-skinned Courier, relaying Gaster's orders to them. Courier nodded, and the two disciples of Misanthropy vanished, leaving behind empty seats.

“Old girlfriend, Professor?” Impact inquired. Bahaus and Helvetica flinched, uncomfortable with Impact's lack of respect. But Gaster didn't mind. Garamond, lost in their own world, hummed a little song only they knew.

[No, Impact. She is… a former employer of mine.]

 – 

Gaster had spent years trying fruitlessly to contact Queen Toriel after her disappearance. Knowing that she'd been frustrated by Asgore's self-sabotaging “war” plans, Gaster had never lost hope that he and Toriel could, together, pressure the King into adopting a more proactive plan for the liberation of the Monster Kingdom.

The Core was the perfect place to hold a meeting with the Queen. As Gaster had taken great pains to assure her, he had total control over the entire facility, including the surveillance system. Nobody would be listening in, nobody would be watching.

The tattered coat Toriel wore was ragged, its royal color faded and graying. A wardrobe thoroughly unfitting a queen; the perfect disguise for a queen-in-exile. She stood in front of W. D. Gaster, flanked by his two disciples, Verdana and Courier. Gaster knew full well that if Queen Toriel had felt at all threatened, she could have easily dealt with her escorts.

Gaster gestured to Verdana and Courier. [Leave us.] The two disciples vanished. [It is good to see you again, Queen Toriel.] He bowed in deference to the queen.

“There is no need for you to bow to me, Doctor W. D. Gaster.” Toriel's voice sounded distant, as if her words had a long way to travel on their way out of her mouth. “I am a queen no longer.”

[And yet here you are.]

“I had to see… I had to see for myself the creature Asgore has become.” Toriel spat out the name of her ex-husband as if it were a curse.

[Pathetic, isn't he?]

Toriel's eyes grew cold. “I can think of worse things to say about him.”

Gaster tapped on the railing and stared into the Core. Its formerly dark depths had begun to glow a soft white as the tachyon density had gradually increased. Keeping the zero-point emitters from overheating had started to become a problem, and a weekly shipment of ice from Snowdin was now necessary to keep the Core producing energy. [You, too, find his… “solution” unsatisfying, don't you?]

“Unsatisfying” was a euphemism. Asgore's “solution” was slowly killing the Underground. The growing energy needs of New Home and its surrounding “suburbs” were demanding far more magical electricity than Gaster had ever anticipated. The population was growing too fast to keep up with food production. Boring deeper into the ground was far too time-consuming and labor-intensive to be a practical solution. The five percent Gaster had thought would power the kingdom for thousands of years was already proving insufficient.

[Our world is too small for us,] he signed. [If we do not break through the Barrier within the next hundred years, by my estimations… our prison will become our tomb.] Perhaps a hundred thousand years from now, the Barrier would dissipate on its own, and humanity's descendants would find the ruins of their culture and wonder what they had done to deserve such a fate.

Toriel's breath caught in her throat. Gaster sensed a great unease from her. She knew that his words were the truth.

[You know just as well as I do that a strong and powerful leader capable of doing what must be done could bring the Barrier down and free our people _tomorrow.]_

“Are you suggesting, Doctor Gaster, that I… overthrow my ex-husband?”

[Are you averse to the idea, Lady Toriel?]

Toriel shook her head and took a few steps toward Gaster. Gaster could see hints of Toriel's royal bearing reasserting themselves. Although she had been trying very hard to make herself smaller, there was still pride in her carriage and posture. “We must not risk war with humankind, Gaster.” Her voice had grown sterner, much more like the voice Gaster had been accustomed to hearing.

[Of course. Should we to fight them once more, the human race wouldn't settle for exile this time. We would be exterminated.]

“I am glad you understand. Now, if your sole reason for bringing me here was to convince me otherwise…” Toriel looked Gaster in the eyes. “You have failed. Gaster, you are so young compared to myself and Asgore. And Asgore has… a short memory. We both fought in the first war against humanity, and yet it seems only I remember just how horrible those dark days were. We must never wage war, Gaster. Never again. ” Her red eyes were hard. “No more innocents must die.”

[What if I assure you that there will be no need to wage war on humanity?]

Gaster could see Toriel's eyes soften. Her lip trembled. “You… Do you truly believe humans and monsters can live in peace? Even after… After As…”

Gaster pursed his lips, unsure of whether or not to lie to his queen. He decided to tell the truth—or, at least, half of it. [Were the Barrier to break, I can assure you, monsters and humans would never fight each other again.]

“I… I will have to think about your suggestion, Gaster.”

Gaster spread his arms wide. [When you make your decision, Queen Toriel, you know where to find me. Although…] He stroked his chin. [I don't know where to find _you…]_

“And I would prefer it that way.” Toriel turned her back on the Royal Scientist and began to walk away. “Goodbye, Doctor Gaster.”

Gaster never saw Toriel again.

  _–_

 _Fool of a king. Fool of a queen. Their foolishness and cowardice have doomed us all._ Gaster continued scribbling in his workbook, his pencil nearly snapping in two between his thumb and forefinger. It was up to him—him and the six other scientists who, together, made up Misanthropy—to save the kingdom and restore monsterkind to its rightful place on the surface of the Earth. Monarchs were useless. _Worse_ than useless. When Gaster freed the Kingdom—when Misanthropy freed the Kingdom—the rest of the monsters would no longer be able to deny the criminal ineptitude of the Dreemurr family. The future of monsterkind would certainly not be left in the clumsy paws of those oversized oafs.

It was not a question of _if,_ Gaster had to continually remind himself as he hunched over, night after night, scrawling his way through an endless army of partial differential equations and hideous vector calculations, but of _when._ He had to remember that.

Seven souls. Seven _human_ souls. Nothing less would be enough to shatter the magical wall which separated the heavens from the earth. And it would take the combined energy of every soul in the Underground to equal even a single human soul. Gaster had, of course, considered redirecting the energy of the Core toward the Barrier in order to neutralize it… but, as his calculations quickly showed, the Core would have to be functioning at one hundred percent capacity in order to do so. And the energy demands of the kingdom further taxed the Core. He still had yet to crack five percent capacity; too busy maintaining the delicate machinery to devise a better cooling system, Gaster was forced to settle for bringing more ice from Snowdin, and with increasing regularity. The Core in its current state was nothing but the frothing shore of a Dirac sea—impressive in its own right, but woefully insufficient; a toe dipped into the ocean of infinity.

Gaster hunched over his desk, the orange sparks in his sockets boring into the scattered papers. _If you cannot go_ through _it… Why not go_ around _it?_

Twilight. The light that filtered through the Barrier's pulsing black-and-white glow was always twilight, fuzzy and muted, the outside world an indistinct blur. It cleaved not only space but time in two. Monsters could dig down, they could dig out, but the Barrier was not something that could be gone _around._

Unless _…_

Gaster began rifling through Impact's journals on temporal mechanics, Verdana's calculations on spatial manipulation, Garamond and Bahaus' meticulous calculations. The same calculations that had given birth to the Core. All Misanthropy scientists made their research freely available to each other. It was the only way to ensure victory. To reach the highest mountain, one must stand on the shoulders of giants.

“ _You're on the right track, Doctor.”_ Gaster bolted upright and cast a quick glance around the room, searching for the source of the voice. It was a child's voice, and yet somehow ageless… an aura of eternity dripped from every prepubescent squeak of a syllable.

[Who is there?] Gaster signed, although the room seemed to be completely empty. [Impact? Are you pranking me?] Instinctively, he summoned his “Gaster blaster”, as he called it, to his side. The disembodied skull floated in the air, steam rising from the gaps in its fangs.

“ _Time and space… control over either one, on its own, is godlike. To command both… would raise you above the gods themselves.”_

[But is it possible?] Struck by a wave of dizziness, Gaster's vision swam in front of his eyes. The wooden door to his study, where the voice seemed to come from, doubled, a doppelganger door splitting away from the original as he squinted.

“ _'Possible'? 'Possible', he asks. Why, my dear Gaster, where I'm standing… you've already done it._

Gaster blinked and steadied himself on his chair, waiting for his vision to un-blur. To his surprise, there were still two doors. [And where, may I ask… are you standing?]

The left door cracked open, letting out an eerie creak. An eldritch light of many unearthly colors shimmered through the crack between door and wall. _“Come to me, Gaster,”_ the voice wafted through, _“and I will show you the future.”_

 –

At last, Gaster had something, and for the first time in years, called a meeting of Misanthropy. All six of his followers showed up, some more promptly than others. Garamond and Impact were late; finding a sitter for their two children on such short notice had been difficult.

[I am glad to see you are all here, my fellow geniuses.] Gaster paced in front of them. [I hope your scientific careers have been fruitful since last we met.]

“Actually, we're more focused on vegetables,” Impact said, prompting a giggle from Garamond. “Better for the kids, you know?”

[I do hope your children have not inherited your sense of humor.]

“Harsh.” Impact looked down.

Verdana patted him on the shoulder. “He didn't mean it like that,” they said.

[Now, my geniuses, gaze upon my creation.] Gaster led the rest of Misanthropy deep into the bowels of the Core, eventually stopping at the end of a thin, snaking corridor that stretched into the heart of the Core—the Zero Engine. At the end of the corridor, a ring of brassy coils lined the walls, floor, and ceiling.

Gaster gestured with all the majesty he could muster. [A gate, crossing the boundaries of space, even the boundaries of time! Through this door lies our freedom. Through this door lies our future! _Through this door lies our heaven!]_

The rest of Misanthropy clapped. Gaster bowed politely. [Thank you, thank you. I couldn't have made this breakthrough without all of your hard work over the years.] It was true: Gaster had stood on the shoulders of all these giants to reach this height. And another, unseen giant: the voice behind the door…

[The Core draws its energy from weak spots in time and space, my friends. Siphoning infinite energy from the abyss which lies beyond the universe, beyond space, beyond time. And where space and time are weak, they can be manipulated. And these manipulations… will connect two disparate parts of the universe—the world beneath the Earth and the world above Heaven—the land and the sky—the Underground… and the Surface.] Gaster paced in front of the “gate” he'd built.

[This, my friends, is Phase One. “The Backdoor to Heaven”.] Gaster summoned a trio of “Gaster blasters” behind him, each leering canine skull staring out blankly with ringed irises in their inky black eye sockets. The three bestial faces framed Gaster's tall, lithe body, imbuing him with an aura of menace. [And Phase Two will be “To Storm Heaven”.]

“You think we can win a war against humankind?” Bahaus asked, incredulous.

[There will be no war, that much is certain.] Gaster spelled out each letter with a flurry of excited gestures, then calmed himself down, reining his hands in. [Now, our most dangerous and clandestine work is ahead of us. The “true Misanthropy”, so to speak, begins here. Friends, in the interest of secrecy and security, we must avoid calling each other by name from here on out. From now on, we will go not by names, but by numbers. Seven of us… One for each of the seven sages who locked us in this prison.] Gaster pointed to each member of Misanthropy in turn, counting down from six. He finished by curling his index finger inward, pointing at himself, and with his other hand signed… _Zero._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If only Gaster had listened to Dio, he'd know that there's no backdoor to heaven, just a front door to hell. (https://youtu.be/M9hfKPu5fEU)


	22. Patient Zero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, an important character returns.

Alphys looked up and down her lab partner. Mostly up. He was tall— easily as tall as Undyne, perhaps even an inch or two taller. In his black suit, he very nearly resembled the human urban legend of the “Slender Man”. Alphys had never heard the name “Gaster” before, but it sounded strangely… important. As if she should have heard that name before.

“S-so, uh, Doctor Gaster…? I-it's really nice to, uh, meet you and everything. But what do you guys n-need _me_ for?”

Gaster smiled. [I have studied your research, Doctor Alphys. May I call you Alphys?]

“S-sure…?” Alphys felt a little uneasy, but it was probably in her best interest to at least try to be friends with this monster. Was he a prisoner, like her?

[Alphys, your work is extra-ordinary! Your experiments with determination—beautiful!]

 _Beautiful?_ The same shameful experiments that had nearly destroyed Alphys' career were _beautiful?_ Some element of her disgust and self-loathing must have registered on Alphys' face, because Gaster's smile quickly drooped. [You… do not think so?]

“I-it's complicated, I guess.” Alphys felt wary about spilling her guts to this stranger. “I-I'm not doing any work like that! If that's what you had in mind!”

Gaster had already moved over to one of his workbenches, upon which a dusty, dirty-beige brick of a computer sat. Alphys recognized it as one of the computers from her old lab back in Hotland, namely because a faded Mew Mew Kissy Cutie sticker was stuck to the side of the old CRT monitor. Her heart sunk at the sight of it. “I lost my job because of those experiments!” Well, actually, she'd only lost it for a few weeks. After Toriel had fired her, Frisk— _Zero—_ had appealed to the King and Queen on her behalf, arguing that they could not risk letting Alphys' talents being used against them. Alphys had been flattered. Of course, it had all just been a trick. Alphys, Asgore, even Toriel… They'd all been pawns in Zero's game.

Real monsters, monsters who had trusted Alphys and her medical skills, had been hurt, traumatized emotionally, psychologically, and physically by her experiments with determination. The amalgamation which had affected each of her “patients” had been horrifying for her to watch, and, Alphys supposed, even _more_ horrifying to experience firsthand. Occasionally she still had nightmares about seeing so many monsters' bodies run together like wax figures in a microwave, hearing their bubbling wails and gurgling moans blurring together into agonized, confused voices. Alphys had tried to move on, like her patients and their families had… and for her, moving on meant _never_ allowing herself to misuse her intellect like that again.

But circumstances just kept pushing Alphys into these situations. First the Peace Roller, now this… Whatever Gaster wanted her to work on, she would have to stand firm, she would have to say…

A cold, bony hand on her shoulder interrupted Alphys' reverie. [Would you like to see what I've been working on, Alphys?]

Alphys' heartbeat slowed to normal as she processed Gaster's signing. She wanted so badly to say “no”, but was afraid of what might happen if she were rude to Gaster. She was a prisoner, after all, not a guest. “O-okay. Yes, sure! I-I mean, it must be fascinating stuff…”

Gaster's hand flew into a flurry of motion Alphys could barely keep up with. Something about… robots? Little robots? And cell phones? He turned to his journal, interrupting his frantic explanation to rifle through a few pages _(Handwritten notes? Really?)_ before going back to signing behind his back. He'd sign for a few seconds, turn the page, sign some more, turn the page…

Alphys fished a little flash drive out of the pocket of her labcoat and crept toward the computer that had once sat in her lab. She plugged the drive into the computer's USB port, then stood in between the computer and Gaster just in case he turned around. “D-do you need any help with… your other hand?”

Gaster barely glanced back at her. [Oh, that? Nothing to be concerned with. A replacement is on the way.] He coughed into his fist, spattering the bone with little bits of black ichor. [Do not worry,] he assured Alphys when she cringed at the sight. [It is nothing to be concerned with. Nor is it anything contagious.] He turned the page, then broke into another coughing fit. It was strange to hear any sound coming from the mysterious doctor's mouth, especially such a harsh and violent hacking noise. [Hold on for just a second.]

Alphys took advantage of the distraction to rifle through the computer. Surprisingly, Gaster seemed to keep all of his research on a single folder on the desktop. Alphys dragged the folder onto the flash drive's icon and began to copy its contents.

Gaster turned around. [Is there something you'd like to see on that computer?]

Alphys jumped and shuffled in front of the computer once again, hoping to hide the activity on the monitor. “N-no, that's, uh, totally fine! I think I'd rather hear w-what you have to say about your research!” Her heart was racing again. Could Gaster notice? Of course he could notice! This was such a stupid plan…

 _“I'm so sorry I had to rope you into this, Alphys,”_ Undyne had told her back in the van. _“But all of our outbound communications are heavily monitored, I couldn't try to warn you without blowing my cover. Now listen. I need you to collect as much dirt as you can on these guys' research… and then we'll bust our way out of here! Together!”_

Alphys tried to feign interest in what Gaster was telling her, although she was so preoccupied with anxiety she could barely read his signing. _I'm sorry, Undyne!_ she thought. _I'm no good at this industrial espionage stuff! I'm no super spy!_

Gaster stopped, and a heavy silence hung over the room. Alphys hadn't noticed she'd stopped breathing. He took great pains to sign very, very slowly. [Are you feeling all right, Alphys?]

“U-uh, y-y-yeah, I'm fine! Don't worry about me!”

Gaster shook his head. [I understand. You did not come here willingly, and must be very frightened. I will have some guards escort you back to your quarters.]

“T-that's really, not really necessary, Doc—”

[We will start you off on your next project tomorrow, instead.] Gaster pulled a smartphone from his breast pocket and dashed off a quick message. While he was occupied, Alphys reached behind her and felt for the USB dongle and yanked it out, shoving it back into her pocket. She hoped the files had finished copying over.

“I'm really, really sorry about all this,” Alphys assured Gaster.

[Think nothing of it! I understand the mind of a scientist!] Gaster's fragmented smile, though meant to comfort her, proved oddly disconcerting. Were Alphys' eyes playing tricks on her, or could she see some _thing_ flitting in between the gaps formed by the two black fissures crossing the doctor's face? [We are not such rough beasts who must be poked and prodded into compliance. We require _…_ a comforting touch.] Gaster laid a bony hand on Alphys' shoulder. She shivered involuntarily, and it was the kind of spasmodic sudden chill running across her still-sore neck that made her feel as if somebody, somewhere, had just begun to dig a grave for her.

Gaster drew his hand back. [I'm sorry. Is it my face?]

“No _…_ ”

[I understand if it disturbs you.] Gaster traced his fingers across the gaps in his visage created by the fractures. [This is the price I paid for laying hands on a future which was not mine to grasp. Torn apart and scattered across time and space _…_ as punishment for my hubris. I am sure you know what it's like, Alphys, to be punished for dreaming too big.]

“Uh… Yeah. S-see you tomorrow, then, Gaster.”

The door to the lab _whoosh_ ed open, and two Misanthropy guards, indistinguishable from each other in their uniforms, marched in, flanking Alphys and leading her out, into the corridors. Gaster waved goodbye as the door slid shut.

“Make sure you get a good night's sleep tonight,” the guard on Alphys' right growled. Alphys had them pegged right away as Undyne's alter ego “Fishmael”. “Don't do anything stupid, like _…_ for example, staying up until 12:35.” Although the guard's face was nearly completely covered, Alphys was certain the guard was winking at her.

“I thought scientists were all about pulling all-nighters,” the guard on Alphys' left replied. “Don't you people normally get, like, two hours of sleep per night?”

“Actually, good scientists go to bed very early every night, so they can be well-rested and full of important brain-energy the next morning.” Fishmael nudged her playfully in the stomach. “Isn't that right, Doctor Alphys?”

Alphys nodded. “Yup! E-early to bed, early to rise _…_ makes a monster, uh _…_ ” Her voice trailed off. “Miss out on all the fun parties _…_ and _…_ get the science done,” she finished meekly.

The guard on Alphys' left shrugged. “Whatever you say, boss.”

  _–_

Alphys wanted so badly to plug the flash drive into her own computer as soon as she returned to her cell, but decided she couldn't risk if the computer had any sort of monitoring software on it (it probably did). The last thing she wanted was to be on her lab partner's bad side.

Alphys curled up on the surprisingly-comfier-than-expected cot in the corner of the room, clutching the flash drive in a nervous death-grip. She couldn't believe she'd pulled it off. Adrenaline was still rushing through her body. It felt… oddly and worryingly empowering. Was this why people committed crimes? The thrill? The rush? The exhilaration? The tingling in your spine, the shortness of your breath?

Alphys checked the clock. It was 11:14. In the morning. Undyne would be showing up after midnight. It was going to be a long day.

But the hours ticked on, and Alphys amused herself with whatever her captors had given her. Cracked dating sims with all their hidden anti-piracy messages activated (“By the way, if you like this game, buy it or die,” the adorable bishonen catboy in one of the games had told her)… Nth generation VHS fansubs of '80s anime, copied and re-copied over and over again to the point at which the sound was all warbly and the colors had gone wibbly (Misanthropy, apparently, did not have the budget for DVDs)… But they helped pass the time, all the same.

As the hands of the quaint analog clock on the wall crawled on, Alphys fought the urge to fall asleep, stifling her yawns and wiping fatigue-tears from her blurry eyes . At last, midnight came and went.

The was a knock on the door. It was 12:28. Alphys inhaled sharply. Was Undyne early? Or was it an enemy? Should she pretend to be asleep?

Silence. Alphys could hear nothing besides her own heartbeat and the faint, ever-present background hum of the Core. Minutes passed.

12:35. There was another knock on the door. Alphys leaped up from her cot and rushed to the door. It didn't have any locks or handles or anything that could be used to open it from the inside, of course, but it had an intercom. Alphys hit the button to connect her to the outside corridor. “A-Alphys here,” she announced through the speaker. Her heart was pounding. Was it time for her to escape already?

The door slid open. It was not Undyne.

Gaster stared down at her as Alphys struggled to mask her disappointment. “Y-you're not…” The words squeaked out of her throat. Alphys crammed the rest in before she could raise the doctor's suspicions.

[I am not what?] Gaster signed.

Alphys' mouth went dry, and she tried her best to conjure some saliva, and an answer. “R-room service. You're not… room service. I ordered room s—”

Gaster waved his hand dismissively. [This is Misanthropy's mother base, not a five-star resort. You receive your breakfast, lunch, and dinner at nine thirty, one forty-five, and six fifteen, respectively.]

Alphys tried to smile and shrug it off. “It was, uh, a joke…?”

Gaster's cracked mouth puckered. [Your delivery is terrible. Come, I have something to show you.]

“Do you realize how late it is?” Alphys whined.

[I checked the security footage. You were wide awake… I figured it would be no harm.]

 _This creep has access to the Core's security system?_ Alphys felt violated. “W-what do you want to show me, Gaster?”

Gaster led her down the corridor, walking backwards the entire time. He never seemed worried about hitting a wall or missing a door—it was as if he had eyes in the back of his head. Maybe he did. Who knew? [I know I could wait until tomorrow, but I could not help myself. I feel like a little baby bones on Christmas Eve!]

“It's really okay. I'm fine with waiting,” Alphys said.

[Nonsense! You will be so excited, Alphys. I know you will find the work I have set out for you invigorating! ]

Alphys wasn't convinced. She tried to make small talk, to keep her mind off of any of the horrible things Gaster might show her. “You're familiar with the Core, right? ”

Gaster nodded.

“D-do you like what I've done with it?”

Gaster cocked his head as he pondered. [I do not like the carpeting.]

Alphys fiddled with her hands nervously. “Uh, y-yeah. About that. That… was King Asgore's idea.”

[Of course.] Gaster pressed onward. Alphys felt as though Gaster had much more to say about Asgore.

“So, Gaster. You're obviously a, uh, a really brilliant scientist, and normally I'd be really excited to meet someone as smart as you, but… You'd think I'd've heard of you before.”

Gaster's face fell.

“I-I didn't mean to offend!” Alphys quickly backpedaled. “I-if you're like, a secret scientist, or something like that, I understand!”

[No. I am not offended.] Gaster signed slowly and with sharp, controlled gestures. He seemed pretty offended. [It was my foolishness and pride that erased me from history.]

“E-erased? Like, you did something really bad, and the King got rid of all the evidence you existed?” Alphys had done some research on human history— real human history—and found that some human leaders, especially the most despotic one, would scrub whatever historical records they could find of their political enemies. But Asgore, the big teddy bear… He would never do _that_ to someone, would he?

[My erasure was far more literal. I had created a portal to bridge the surface and Underground, effectively bypassing the Barrier. I… thought I had the answer. And I'd studied old star charts, from long before the humans exiled us… There was…] Gaster paused. His signing became much more deliberate, but Alphys could see his hand tremble. [There would be a total eclipse of the sun the very next day. I wanted so badly to see it with my own eyes. Instead of testing the portal first, I plunged in headlong.]

Alphys gasped. “I'm so sorry, Gaster. I had no idea… D-did you die?”

Gaster shook his head. [Worse. I was un-born. My face, name, and deeds were erased from the minds of all but my most loyal followers. Of those six, only one tried to pull me out of the abyss. His erasure from the time stream… It was not… immediate.]

“How did you come back?”

The embers in Gaster's inky black sockets smoldered like the aeons-old husks of long-since burned-out stars. [There was a door. And Zero… Zero opened the door for me.]

Alphys had hoped she would never have to hear that name again. But she knew their body had never been recovered. After all, she had been tasked with faking a corpse for them.

Unethical experiments and lies. It seemed that was all anyone thought Alphys was good for.

“Zero isn't… They aren't a normal human, a-a-are they?” Alphys stammered the words out.

Gaster's eyes brightened. His signing was fluid and fast. [Zero is so much more than a normal human! They… are a traveler, a sailor in the same seas I was drowned in… They touch the flow of time… They feel the rotation of the universe… To them, seeing the ripples, eddies, whirlpools in the river of spacetime… Why, it's as natural to them as breathing!]

Alphys tried to regulate her breathing. Of course Zero was behind this. Of course, they would be behind all of this. But if it were so obvious, why was it terrifying her?

[I understand you have a complicated relationship with Zero.]

_Complicated? No, not so much complicated as nightmarishly screwed-up._

[Please try to see them,] Gaster continued, [as I do. As a figure of admiration… a true savior. The savior I was never destined to be.]

Gaster stopped in front of a massive door. A keypad adorned with blinking red lights was set into the wall adjacent to the door. [We are here.] He spun around on his heel and keyed a complex sequence into the keypad, and the door slowly slid downward, revealing a pitch-black room on the other side. A pair of red lights, tiny pinpricks in the vast blackness, hung suspended in the air some immeasurable distance away.

[Normally, it would be chivalrous of me to say, “Ladies first”, and beckon you through,] Gaster told Alphys, [but it would be more prudent of me to lead the way here as well.]

“G-gee, thanks.” Alphys felt a strange pressure emanating from the farthest side of the room, although with no light, there was no telling how far away that point was.

Gaster led Alphys into the room. With each step he took, a circular panel on the floor lit up beneath his feet, casting a soft, pure white glow. The light did not travel far, illuminating only about half a yard in all directions, and so the walls remained shrouded in an almost-palpable darkness. It reminded Alphys of the oldest and most perilous parts of Waterfall, where the faint glows of luminescent crystals and fungus showed travelers the way to safety.

The next panel illuminated only the end of a medical examination table, on which lay a pair of bare human feet. The human's legs melded with the impenetrable shadows, but Alphys hoped those legs were connected to the rest of the human's body.

Actually, considering how macabre this setting was, Alphys wondered if an entire body might be worse than just a pair of limbs.

[You dabble in medical science, correct?] Gaster signed. The light shining beneath his feet cast ghoulish shadows across his face. Alphys needed him to sign multiple times before she could make out his words.

“M-medical scientist? Yes…” Alphys glanced at the pair of legs. “B-but I don't really do humans. I-is this person sick…?”

[In a sense.] Gaster pressed a button underneath the examination table, and with a mighty clunk, a spotlight turned on, flooding the center of the room with white light. Alphys blinked rapidly, clearing the dazzling spots from her eyes as her vision adjusted.

There was an entire human body on the examination table. It was a young human, probably around fifteen years old, emaciated and clad in a simple white robe. A network of jagged red scars ran across the entire left side of their body like cobwebs made of lightning. Their brown hair was wild, long, and unkempt. A forest of tubes and wires snaked out from the human's body, originating from their chest and flowing across the floor, vanishing into the darkness.

Alphys recognized the body.

It belonged to Frisk. Or, at least, it _had._

Zero sat up, slowly and deliberately, wires trailing behind their hijacked body. Their long fingernails scraped against the side of the table. A thick, tar-like black liquid leaked from the side of Zero's mouth. They wiped it on the back of the same hand they used to brush their overgrown bangs out of their eyes. Their eyes slowly cracked open as their mouth split into a wide grin. Their right eye was normal, but the whites of Zero's left eye had turned jet black, leaving only a scarlet ring bordering the black sclera and black pupil, a fire burning like the embers in Gaster's eyes. 

“Good evening, Doctor Alphys. Or is it good morning?” Zero looked straight through Alphys' as if she weren't there; their unsettling thousand-yard stare belied their calm demeanor. “My sincerest apologies for summoning you at so rude an hour, Doc. But, you see…” Zero coughed into their fist, speckling the skin with dots of a black liquid—the same black substance Gaster had been coughing up earlier. They held up their hand weakly. “…This body is dying, Alphys. And I…” Zero ran their fingers through the wires protruding from their chest. “Honestly, I really thought this time I'd outlast Asriel.” They smiled coyly. “Boy, is my face red.”

Alphys could barely stammer out a coherent word in front of Zero.

“Now, Alphys, I didn't hire you for your medical skills, prodigious as they may be.” Zero wheezed. “But it just so happens that… Well, without some speedy intervention, this body isn't going to last long enough.”

Zero turned to Gaster. “Doctor Gaster. You've finished your work with the nanomachines, correct?”

Gaster signed something, but Alphys couldn't see it. She was transfixed by the sight of Zero. There was not a single blemish or scar on their skin, despite the heavy injuries they must have received in the crash months ago.

“Good. And the Peace Roller Mark Three?”

Gaster signed something else. Zero turned to Alphys. “You know, you two… your engineering skills compliment each other so well. I think you'd really get along. You know…” Zero winked and clicked their tongue. “Just in case anything happens to Undyne.”

An overwhelming sense of dread filled Alphys from the tip of her snout to the tip of her tail. Did Zero know about Undyne? Was there anything they _didn't_ know about? Alphys struggled to say something, anything. _“What_ are _you?”_ she finally whispered.

Zero smiled. The harsh light shining down on them drew deep shadows down their face. “I am the demon who comes when their name is called.” They licked their lips. “And I've come early.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy, it feels good to be writing the main antagonist again!


	23. The Greatest Challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Asriel gets to be a teenager.

Asriel's side ached. The doctor had told him his abdominal muscles had been shredded, and until the wound he'd received in his fight with Misanthropy was fully healed, he should avoid any sort of physical exertion until the muscles had knitted themselves back together. Even walking was frowned upon.

Which just showed how much the doctor knew, because Asriel had cut down six training dummies already and was ready to chop down another sixty if he felt like it.

Twilight had enveloped the training grounds (it was 4:00 in the afternoon, yes, but it was also nearly Christmas), which were all but deserted. Asriel wasn't worried in the least that someone might discover he'd been exercising. Papyrus had chosen the day to personally interview every Royal Guard to root out any Misanthropy sympathizers, and Toriel and Asgore were away from the kingdom at an emergency press conference. Sneaking out of the hospital had been easy, and with such an empty castle, Asriel was in no danger of being discovered.

Asriel planted his spear in the churned-up snow and soil and leaned against it, panting with exertion. His breath came out in long streams of pale steam caught in the snowflake-filled air. Scraps of canvas and cotton stuffing littered the ground.

“Ah! Prince Asriel! So nice to see you out and about!”

At the startling sound of Papyrus' shrill voice cutting through the freezing air, Asriel lost his balance and landed face-first in the snow. Papyrus dutifully helped him to his feet and brushed the snow off his clothes. “My lord, I had no idea you had recovered so quickly. Were you just discharged from the hospital today?”

Asriel pulled his thick winter greatcoat tight around himself. “Y-yeah. Kind of. I was just doing, some, y'know… physical therapy. Strength training.”

Papyrus examined a nearby dummy. “And you are already strong enough to cut through six inanimate, lifeless sacks of cotton. How impressive!”

From anyone else, it would have been a backhanded compliment. Papyrus was far too sincere for that. When he complimented you, he meant it with all his heart, even if he was complimenting you on something small. _Especially_ if he was complimenting you on something small, because he knew you needed to hear it.

“Are you finished reviewing the Guard already?” Asriel asked.

“Yes. And you'll be pleased to know I found one more traitor in our midst. But halfway through my interrogation, he fell asleep!”

“Uh… 'interrogation'?” Asriel's mind boggled at the idea of Papyrus trying to aggressively extract information from a prisoner.

Sans stepped out from behind Papyrus. “What he means, kid, is the traitor fell asleep after course number three in a seven-course Italian dinner.”

“He didn't even get to the pasta…” Papyrus looked forlorn.

“You came on too strong with the wine, bro.” Sans reached up and patted Papyrus' shoulder in consolation. “It's okay. He'll wake up tomorrow. And I betcha after we cure his hangover, he'll be willing to tell us everything he knows.”

“You really think so, Sans?”

Asriel raised an eyebrow. “Your idea of 'interrogation' is a free meal?”

“One catches more flies with pasta than with vinegar, young princeling.”

“I think it's 'honey', not 'pasta',” Asriel told Papyrus.

“And doesn't wine have vinegar in it?” Sans pointed out.

“My goodness, I had it all backwards!” Papyrus slapped his forehead. “I should have put honey in the spaghetti! A dash of cinnamon in an ice cream-based sauce… Drizzled with chocolate and caramel… Marshmallows, maraschino cherries…”

“Wh…”

“Dessert spaghetti! The richness of spaghetti, the sweetness of a sundae!” Papyrus shouted, pounding his fist. “A decadent mash-up to loosen even the most laconic monster's lips and lip-equivalents! It could be the final course!”

“Dessert spaghetti” did not sound appetizing, but Asriel's stomach growled in spite of itself. Papyrus noticed. “I, too, have piqued my appetite with my own genius,” Papyrus told him. “Let us all go out for dinner!”

Asriel weighed his options. He could sneak back into the hospital and have pudding or jello for dinner, or get some real food and risk someone at the hospital noticing his absence. He shrugged. “Yeah. Sure.”

Papyrus continued to ponder his newest culinary invention aloud as the three left the castle. “Hmm… Normal noodles may not be appropriate… What about… dough? Yes! Churros! Fried dough, cut into thin, spaghetti-like shapes… Sprinkled with sugar and cinnamon…”

–

It had only been a week since Asriel had last been to Ya Mejana, but days spent bedridden passed agonizingly slowly. The restaurant had been cleaned up nicely; Asriel could hardly believe he and Sans had stumbled onto a plot to commit high treason in this very building.

Hamieh stood behind the bar, tending to a couple of patrons. He looked up from the drink he'd been pouring, noticed Asriel and Sans, and waved warmly. Behind the maître d's podium, the same deer-faced monster from the other day gestured around the restaurant, to the myriad of mostly-empty tables, and pulled out three laminated menus. It looked like it had been a slow day. “Let me take you to your table.”

“Thanks, Cervus,” Sans said.

“I-I'm Selim, actually.” The monster's voice trembled.

Asriel thought back to the young human and monster who'd been in the restaurant a week earlier. Of course—Formickey had used his special ability to switch their minds that day, and had never bothered to switch them back. And now he was dead, and they were stuck like that. Asriel couldn't help but feel guilty, even though he'd had no intention of killing him in their duel.

“I'm sorry,” Asriel found himself mumbling, and as his thoughts returned to the present and he took a look at the waiter, he felt a strange feeling inside his chest. It was like being sick, only it felt good instead of bad. And, he noticed, Selim's eyes were very green and very pretty.

“It's okay! Actually, thinks kind of worked out for the best for both of us.” Selim shrugged. “I don't wanna go back to my old body. I love deer. …And Cervus actually likes my old body, so… Yeah. It's weird, but it's not so bad.”

“Well, that is excellent!” Papyrus told the waiter.

 _…in the vanilla and almond extract, then transfer the egg white mixture into the pan, cutting gently…_ Frisk's voice suddenly cut through the fog in Asriel's brain.

 _“F—”_ Asriel nearly exclaimed, but stopped himself. “I, um… Where are the restroom?”

Selim pointed him in the direction of the restrooms and Asriel made a hurried exit he hoped was not too undignified. He locked himself in the stall. His heart was pounding.

 _“Frisk?”_ he whispered. _“Why can I hear you now? Are we in danger?”_

_Not as far as I know._

_“Okay.”_ Asriel caught his breath. _“I just got scared. Usually if I start hearing you all of a sudden it means something bad is happening. Or has happened, or is going to happen.”_

_Hey, that's, uh… Well, actually, you've got a point. We've got to stop meeting like this._

_“What were you saying back there?”_

_That? Oh, uh… whenever I get bored and I know you can't hear me I start to imagine myself cooking or baking._

_“Really?”_

_Yup. I was just going over the recipe for the poached meringue your mom made that one time._

Asriel exited the stall and made for the door. His heart started pounding against his ribs as he began to push the door open. He let it squeak shut, after only opening it a crack. The wound on his side ached.

_Are you okay, Asriel?_

_“Uh, Frisk?”_ Asriel swallowed hard. _“Why can't I open this door?”_

_Well, you got kinda freaked out when you looked at the maitre d'… I'm guessing you're either afraid, or in love._

_“Love? C-can you fall in love with someone you don't even know? I mean, there has to be a connection, you have to know them really well, and…”_

_People and monsters fall in love with people they've never met before all the time. Most of the time it doesn't work out because as they get to know each other they realize they don't actually like each other. But yeah, love at first sight! It's your body's way of telling you it's found a potential mate._

_“M-mate?”_

_Yeah. Like, your body is saying, “You should have babies with that person.”_

_“No way.”_ Asriel felt scandalized.

_I agree, it's gross. But it's natural._

_“I've never felt like this before!”_

_That's natural too._

_“Have you ever felt 'love at first sight'?”_

_Nah. But trust me, I know these things. I helped get Undyne and Alphys together. So I guess I'm an expert. Do you need help with Selim?_

_“Uh…”_ Asriel sucked air through his gritted teeth. _“Yeah…”_

_Okay, just take a deep breath, go out there, and uh… don't do anything. Just focus on enjoying your dinner._

_“What? Why not?”_

_You don't flirt with someone who's at work. It's not fair to them, and it's rude and disrespectful. Remember the bit in_ Laura Palmer and the Champion of Daggers _where she has to work in the Spellbinder's Cafe and that one creepy guy keeps trying to ask her on a date? Don't be the creepy guy._

Asriel hadn't thought of it that way, but supposed Frisk had a point. _“I guess you're right. It's not fair. But…”_

_Survive dinner, and we can focus on getting you that date._

Asriel cracked the door open and peeked through. Selim was going over the menu with Papyrus, who seemed very curious as to why his brother would be frequenting a restaurant that offered neither burgers nor hot dogs, and did not have even a single bottle of ketchup to its name. _Oh, crap,_ he thought. _They're our waiter._

_Of course they are. Did you see anyone else around?_

Asriel closed the door and rested his forehead against it. _“I can't do this, Frisk,”_ he whispered.

_A week ago you fought six adult monsters at once. You can deal with a crush._

_“Why is this happening to me now?”_ he moaned.

_Well, for starters, we barely spend any time with people your own age._

_“Technically, I'm hundreds of years old. In flower years.”_

_There's no shame in being a late bloomer. Now walk out there and have a nice dinner. You'll survive the night._

_“Thanks.”_ Asriel stood up straight, took a deep breath, and walked out of the bathroom. He took a seat and stared at the menu. He didn't know what anything was.

“I'm so proud of you for branching out and having new culinary experiences,” Papyrus was telling his brother.

“What did you order, Sans?” Asriel asked. He was starting to regain his composure.

“I took the liberty of ordering shawarma for all of us. 'Cause you know, with the weather getting colder…”

Papyrus gritted his teeth.

“…we could all stand to be a little…”

Asriel could hear Papyrus' molars grinding from across the table.

“…sha- _warmer.”_

Papyrus slumped over, making a big show out of how disappointed he was by Sans' pun.

“You see that?” Sans asked Asriel. “That's what you do when you like a pun, but don't want to admit it.”

“What's shawarma?” Asriel asked.

Selim, passing by, answered the question for him. Every muscle in Asriel's body tensed up when he heard their voice. “It's slow-cooked shaved meat on a pita roll, with pickles, tomatoes, and hummus. And it comes with fries.”

“What's a pita,” Asriel found himself muttering, hardly aware of his own voice.

“The whole thing kind of like a gyro,” Papyrus explained. “Don't worry, I had Sans order yours with beef, instead of lamb.” He turned to the waiter. “Prince Asriel had a bad experience involving a gyro and a mean-spirited prank a while back,” he explained, and Asriel felt all of his blood rushing to his face.

 _Don't worry,_ Frisk told him. _Papyrus and Sans are family. And family embarrasses you in front of other people. Everyone understands. Don't let it get to you._

“T-thanks,” Asriel stammered. He glanced toward Selim and quickly averted his gaze, just in case they noticed and thought he was staring.

“You see,” Papyrus went on, “a very cruel jokester treated the prince to a gyro made with lamb's meat, then told him it was goat's meat and called him a cannibal.”

Asriel wanted to hide under the table. _Stay strong!_ Frisk told him.

“I'm so sorry, Prince Asriel!” Selim consoled him. “That's a horrible thing to do to someone. R-rest assured, we don't serve our customers goat meat here.”

“Y-you can just call me Asriel,” Asriel blurted out without thinking. “A-a-and thank you.”

“Would you like anything to drink, uh… Asriel, sir? We have coffee, tea, and Pepsi products.”

“I'll stick with water, thanks.”

Time passed by in awkward silence. Asriel cast furtive glances around the restaurant even after the food had arrived.

“Is something wrong, kid?” Sans asked. “You look really nervous.”

“Uh… No! Everything's fine. Nothing is the matter.”

“We can bring you back to the hospital—”

“I-I'd rather stay here.”

Papyrus leaned over and whispered something to Sans. “Huh. You really think so, Paps?” Sans turned back to Asriel. “You seem to be a little…”

“…Smitten with someone?” Papyrus finished.

Asriel's mouth gaped open. With the mouthwatering meal directly beneath him, that was a bad idea. “H-how did you…”

Papyrus stared wistfully into the distance. “I was young and in love once, too…”

“Wanna fill us in on the details?”

Asriel shook his head.

Sans asked something unintelligible through a mouthful of shawarma.

“What?” Asriel asked.

“It's someone in this restaurant, isn't it?” Sans repeated.

“Is it… me?” Papyrus asked.

“No!” Asriel replied, perhaps a little more forcefully than he meant to.

“…Sans?”

“Gotta admit, I dunno what you'd see in me,” said Sans. “I mean, you've seen my bachelor pad.”

“No! No. It's…” Asriel leaned over and whispered, _“I-it's… our waiter.”_

“That's rough, buddy.”

“Cheer up, Prince Asriel! You'll win them over yet!” Papyrus consoled him. “You can count on us to help you out in this trying time!”

“Um. I'm really, really doing fine on my own, guys. Y-you don't have to…”

But Sans had already flagged down the waiter. “Hey, excuse me? The prince would like to say something to you! Something very important!”

Selim turned to face Asriel. “What can I do for you, sir?” Asriel froze, ironically, like a deer caught in a car's headlights.

_Frick! Uh, Frisk, what do I do?_

_Aw, jeez, abort! Abort!_

_What?_

_Calmly tell them you'd like some tea._

“Sir, are you feeling alright?” Selim looked concerned. Asriel's heart ached.

“I'd like some tea, please,” Asriel squeaked.

“Would you like milk or honey in it?”

“Both?”

Selim wrote that down. “I'll be right back, sir.” They left.

Asriel buried his face in his paws.

“There, there,” Sans consoled him. “You'll have other chances.”

“Sans, that was uncalled for,” Papyrus said crossly. “You clearly have no experience in the romantic arts.”

 _“How is a prince supposed to ask someone on a date?”_ Asriel moaned through his paws.

“Eloquently?” Sans suggested.

“Hush, you.” Papyrus stroked his chin. “I've got it! You could hold a tournament! And the winner gets the prince's hand in marriage!”

“I don't wanna marry anyone yet!”

“Of course, you'd have to ensure they enter the tournament, and then rig the entire thing…” Papyrus frowned. “Very ungentlemanly.”

 _“I just want to ask the cute waiter on a date. Why is that so hard?”_ Asriel whined.

“Here's your tea, sir.”

Asriel yelped and jerked upright, his knee banging against the bottom of the table and jostling its contents. The tea inside the mug Selim had set down in front of him sloshed violently. _They probably heard me and now it's gonna be really awkward and—_ he thought.

“I'm so sorry!” Selim helped Asriel steady the mug. “Sorry for startling you like that. Are you all right?”

“Y-yeah, I'm fine! I-it's nothing…” Asriel noticed that Selim was wearing a necklace. And on that necklace was…

 _Hey, Asriel. Doesn't that pendant on their neck remind you of the Sigil of Storms from_ Laura Palmer and the Hermit of the Hollows?

So it was. In the book, the heroine had been led to the titular Hermit by a group of neophytes, all of whom wore a pendant depicting a bolt of lightning crossing through a spiral: the Sigil of Storms. The design Selim was wearing wasn't quite what Asriel had pictured when he'd read the book, but the resemblance was uncanny.

“Uh, e-excuse me,” Asriel stammered. “I-is that thing on your neck the Sigil of Storms…”

“…From the Laura Palmer books!” Selim's eyes sparkled. “Yeah, they're my favorite! This is actually the design they're using in the movie…”

“But it doesn't show up until the third book…”

Selim shrugged. “Yeah, they're making some changes, putting in a lot of foreshadowing.”

“Hey, uh…” Asriel forced his next words out, even though his body seemed to be rebelling against him. “M-maybe when you're done with work… we can… hang out and talk about the books?”

Selim shrugged. “My shift actually ends in, like, five minutes, so…”

“We'd like the bill now, please,” Papyrus said.

Selim left. Asriel's entire body felt lighter. Everything was perfect, and nothing had gone wrong.

“You did it!” Papyrus told him. “I'm so proud of you!”

Nice work, Asriel.

Asriel stood up. “Thanks, guys,” he told the skeleton brothers. “You helped out a lot.”

Papyrus bowed. “Glad to be of service.”

And that was when Asriel's wound decided to re-open, and for a brief moment before everything went black, Asriel felt all of the pain he'd felt after his battle, all over again.

–

“Asriel. My son.” Toriel patted Asriel on the shoulder. “We have got to stop meeting like this.”

“'M sorry mom,” Asriel mumbled, his brain still hazy from the painkillers.

“I do hope you weren't doing something incredibly foolish, such as… fighting?”

“No!” Asriel shook his head. “I… uh, Paps and Sans took me out to dinner. I told 'em I was sick of hospital food.”

“You've got your dad in you, that's for sure,” Asgore told Asriel. “Tori, remember the time I broke my leg?”

“Oh, yes, I remember. You were trying to walk before the plaster on your cast was even dry.” Toriel turned to face Asriel with a look that seemed to say, “please don't grow up to be your father”. “Asriel, why didn't you just ask for the food to be delivered?”

“Because, uh… There was…”

The door to Asriel's room cracked open. “Excuse me,” a distant voice came from behind it. “Prince Asriel Dreemurr? You have another visitor.”

“Uh… Okay?”

The door opened all the way, and Selim walked through, bowing politely before the King and Queen. “Good morning, Your Majesties… Hi, Asriel!” Their ears perked up when they saw him.

“H-hi, Selim.” Asriel waved weakly.

Asgore looked back and forth. “Er…” He leaned toward Asriel. “Do we know him?” He turned toward Selim again. “Sorry. Is 'him' okay?”

Selim shook their head. “I'd prefer 'they', actually, Your Majesty.”

“They're a friend,” Asriel explained. “We were gonna, uh, hang out yesterday. That's why I snuck out. I'm sorry.”

Toriel and Asgore looked at Asriel. Then they looked at Selim. Then they looked back at Asriel again. “You have a new friend?” Toriel asked.

Asriel nodded.

“A friend your own age?” Asgore asked.

Asriel nodded again.

“Who is _not_ helping you learn how to fight?” Toriel added.

Asriel nodded a third time. Toriel and Asgore looked at each other.

“Oh, Asriel!” Asgore hugged him. “We are so proud of you for making a friend!”

“Perhaps we should leave you alone,” Toriel told Asriel, “so you can 'hang out' with your new friend.” She and Asgore filed out of the room, but not before both of them gave Asriel a kiss and told him they loved him, of course.

“Sorry about all that,” Asriel told Selim.

They took a seat next to him. “I know how it is. At least you've only got one mom.”

“Both your parents are moms?”

“Yeah. It's not bad, but whenever I want something, they both just say 'go ask your mother' until I give up.” They laughed. “Bet you don't have to worry about that, what with being a prince and everything.”

“I-I just have to worry about people trying to kill me.” Asriel tapped on his eyepatch. “I think it's a fair trade.” Nice. He liked the way this conversation was going. There was no way Selim wouldn't think he was cool. “Not really, though. It sucks,” he added.

“Oh, yeah, definitely.”

Asgore opened the door and poked his head through. “Oh, right, Asriel. Your mom and I have decided to ground you for a week, starting tomorrow. I love you, son!”

“L-love you too, Dad!” Asriel called out. Asgore, placated, retreated.

“So, uh,” Asriel felt himself start to flounder. “D-do you like a…”

_Don't ask them if they like anime. Save that for the second date._

“…aaaaaaaaaagricultural… practices… of medieval… Eur… asia?”

“Agricultural practices of medieval Eurasia?” Selim asked, just to make sure that was what Asriel had said.

“Y-yeah. Like, uh… grain husbandry techniques. Did you think they were effective… in the long run… compared to the practices of the ancient… mesoamericans?” Asriel hoped Selim didn't realize he was just stringing words together at random. This was going really badly.

_I'm sorry, Asriel. Asking if they like anime would have turned out better than this._

“I don't really know anything about farming, sorry. I'm more into astronomy!”

“Really? I love space, and stars, and all that stuff too!” He could see in Selim's smile that the two of them were really starting to connect.

“Man, if you're into space, and you like the Laura Palmer books, you know what you should really check out? Andromeda's Horizon by Amanda F. Franke. It's got a really similar sense of drama, and the author uses the science to come up with a lot of really cool ideas. Like, there's a species of aliens, and they've got twelve genders, and they don't understand the concept of linear time, so…”

–

Alphys carefully stuck one tube into Zero's right arm and watched the black blood slowly travel across its length, journeying into the tall, white machine she'd spent the previous day setting up. The room was filled with the various chirps and beeps of the monitoring equipment Zero had been hooked up to, letting her know that Zero's stolen body was still, for the moment at least, alive. She stuck the second tube into the same arm and watched the clean, reddish-brown blood flow into it as the dialyzer separated the black ichor and red blood. Zero's body noticeably relaxed, and they sighed in relief. As Zero's blood flowed through the dialysis machine, Alphys could see the black substance being filtered out of the bloodstream.

“Would you mind telling me… exactly what I'm removing from your body?” Alphys ask her patient.

“As I'm sure you're well aware, a girl's gotta have some secrets, right?”

“B-but you're not—”

“But _you_ are. And you've got plenty, don't you?” Zero looked off to the side. “Do you have a spare syringe, Doctor Alphys?”

“I've got syringes for days… What d—”

“Take one. Fill it with sodium cyanide.”

“What!?” Alphys was taken aback by the bluntness of Zero's request.

Zero looked right at her, their mouth drawn in a tight, thin-lipped smile. “What's the matter? Don't say you don't want to kill me. Wouldn't you be doing the world a favor?”

It took a few minutes to find the requested materials, but Alphys prepared a syringe and filled it with a few hundred milligrams of the toxic, whitish liquid.

“Bring it over here.”

Alphys brought it over, holding the syringe in her trembling claws. What is Zero planning?

Zero looked away and close their eyes. “Stick it in me, Alphys. Wherever you'd like. Whenever you'd like.”

Alphys froze. Hundreds of horrifying possibilities ran through her mind. Zero wouldn't just _let_ her kill them, would they?

Just the previous night, Undyne had met with her and told her to take whatever chance she got to kill Zero. Nobody was allowed as close to them as Alphys. There weren't even guards posted outside the inner sanctum, let alone within it. It was a sign that Zero was perfectly assured that Alphys neither could nor would take their life.

So why were they giving her this chance? What were they trying to prove to her? Their strength? Her lack of fortitude?

Alphys slowly held the needle against Zero's neck and prepared to press down on the plunger.

“No.” Zero opened their eyes, and Alphys reflexively drew back. “No, you need to do it faster. It has to be a surprise.”

“O-okay…” Alphys waited for Zero to close their eyes again, and brought the syringe down as quickly as she could.

Suddenly, the syringe was in Zero's hand, and the needle was forming a dimple in Alphys' neck, but hadn't pierced her scales. Alphys could feel a single bead of sweat roll down her forehead and across her snout. The small amount of cyanide in the syringe sloshed, then gradually settled. Zero slowly lifted the syringe from Alphys' neck and placed it back into her hand. There was a small dot of blood on Zero's bare shoulder where Alphys had tried to stick the needle.

Somehow, Zero had pried the syringe from her hand, pulled it out of their body, and jabbed it at Alphys' throat, without breaking the needle, all before she could depress the plunger and send the poison into their bloodstream.

“Good job,” they told her in a voice layered with saccharine, patronizing overtones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus' dessert pasta sounds like something you'd have to sign a waiver to get at a restaurant.


	24. Revenant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Asriel gets a surprise visitor.

_“Todd Mallory here with Mallory's Magnificent Morning. Today's morning question, 'Monsters: How Safe are Your Children?' I have here with me today the King and Queen of the Dreemurr Kingdom, Asgore and Toriel Dreemurr, as well as local senator and presidential hopeful Senator Albert Wretchidge to discuss the issue.”_

Asriel gagged at the sight of the senator. He hoped Toriel destroyed him. He propped his smartphone on the nightstand and rolled over onto his side to avoid straining his neck as he watched the video. Todd Mallory of “Mallory's Magnificent Morning” had the most punchable face he'd ever seen. Toriel looked resplendent in her blue dress, and Asgore looked as uncomfortable as he always did in a three-piece suit.

 _“Senator Wretchidge, we all know your stance on monsters.”_ Mallory turned to Toriel and Asgore. _“That's okay, right? 'Monsters'? Or is there a 'PC' term you guys prefer?”_ Canned laughter played in the background. Mallory turned back to the senator just as Toriel opened her mouth. _“Senator, how does the appearance of radical groups such as Misanthropy validate your opinions on monster/human relations?”_

 _“Well, I'll tell you, Todd, it just proves what I've been saying all along, which is that humans and monsters just can't get along.”_ The senator shrugged.

 _“I think we are getting along,”_ Toriel countered.

 _She hasn't strangled him with his own tie yet,_ said Frisk from the corner of Asriel's mind, _so I'm inclined to agree with her._

 _“Senator Wretchidge, Misanthropy is nothing but a small group of malcontents._ _Malcontents who, I must say, were most likely spurred into action because of people like you, who fan the flames of fear and inter-species tensions.”_ Toriel wagged a finger at him accusingly.  _  
_

Mallory templed his fingers. _“Interesting. King Asgore, what do you think about your wife's statements?”_

_“I agree with my wife.”_

_“Mm-hmm.”_ Mallory nodded. _“That's what they all say.”_

 _“And, for the record, Misanthropy is a failure. They have accomplished nothing, and their badges say 'hamburger thief' on them.”_ Asgore crossed his arms.

 _“I'm going to assume their ringleader is the Hamburglar,”_ the host joked.

_“Well, perhaps there would be less, ah, 'fear and inter-species tensions' if we weren't dealing with a race of creatures who can shoot lasers from their eyeballs, Mrs. Toriel.”_

_“The vast majority of monsters possess just as much capacity to cause harm as the average human.”_ Asriel could tell that Toriel was struggling to stay civil. _“Are you as afraid of other humans as you are of us?”_

 _“Many humans are very afraid of other humans, actually, Mrs. Toriel,”_ Mallory corrected. He did have a point there.

 _“The difference is,”_ Wretchidge explained, dialing up his smugness to unbearable levels, _“I would have to acquire a gun in order to menace someone. I cannot just conjure a gun from thin air and go out and shoot my neighbor.”_

 _“And how many monsters have you met who can do that?”_ Asgore asked the senator.

_“Don't try to pull that wool over my eyes. I've seen monsters that were literally made of fire. Nothing but fire!”_

_“Mr. Grillby is a fine bartender and a gentleman,”_ Asgore countered. _“Who, might I add, has never set fire to anyone or anything, except his perfectly-cooked hamburgers.”_

_“Well, what was the name of that former bodyguard of yours who could shoot lightning?”_

_“Undyne is an exceptionally strong monster, Senator,”_ Toriel explained.

_“And is she affiliated in any way with this 'Misanthropy'?”_

_“Of course not!”_ Asgore pounded on the table. _“Undyne, like all of our royal guards, is firmly committed to the kingdom, and that kingdom is firmly committed to peace!”_

Asriel winced.

“All _of your royal guards?”_ Mallory raised an eyebrow. _“Interesting. Because I happen to have a video here that shows otherwise…”_

On the giant plasma screen behind Mallory and his guests, a grainy video began playing. The audio was muffled by wind and the picture was obscured by rain, but enough of it was distinct that anyone watching could tell what was happening. _Oh, dear,_ said Frisk, as Asriel started to hear his own voice coming from the footage.

 _“Beating and terrorizing the subjects you took an oath to protect… That's close enough in my book. None of your will ever be guards again. Throw down your weapons, and maybe I'll find a place for you as… oh, I dunno. Dishwashers? Janitors? It's a better fate than what's in store for you when the King and the rest of the Royal Guard hear about this.”_ Asriel's burning weapon cast a golden glow on his face. The five traitorous guards stood in front of him, weapons bared.

Asriel exited the video and rolled onto his back. “Dammit!” he cursed. There he was, fighting to protect his family, his kingdom, hell, the human race probably owed him a debt of gratitude for kicking Misathropy's sorry ass, and a bunch of pundits were spinning it to make all monsters look dangerous.

_Well, to be fair, you haven't saved the world yet._

Asriel hated politics. When his parents stepped down, the first thing he was going to do was establish a parliamentary democracy and then spend the rest of his life farming turnips or something. Leave the garbage for someone more tolerant to pick up.

Asriel stewed in silence for a while, because if there was anything more boring than being grounded, it was being injured and grounded. If it was any consolation, when the week was up, he'd probably still be injured, so from his perspective it was really a waste of a grounding. And he'd been transferred to his own bedroom, so no more thin hospital sheets and gross quote-unquote “food”. Papyrus and Sans let him have his phone, (because if there was one thing neither skeleton could do, it was punish someone), but Toriel and Asgore had been one step ahead of them. He could still access the internet, but any site that wasn't news or educational had been blocked.

Asriel's phone began to buzz. It was none other than his new best friend _(wow, that hurt_ , Frisk said) Selim.

“H-hi, Selim!” Asriel caught his breath (he hadn't been aware he'd been holding it). “Uh, what's up?”

“Oh, hi, Asriel. I hit you on my contacts list by mistake. Aren't you still grounded?”

“It's really more of an _honorary_ grounding.”

Selim laughed. “So, are you aware that you're a meme now?”

“I'm banned from those parts of the internet. Hardest time I've ever done.” Asriel didn't really understand where the jokes were coming from, but Selim seemed to like them. “…Am I a good meme?” he asked.

“Hang on, let me read some.” Selim cleared their throat. “Ahem. 'Asriel Dreemurr doesn't get wet. Water gets Asriel Dreemurr .'”

“I don't get it.”

“Lemme try another. 'Asriel Dreemurr doesn't sleep, he waits.' Or how about this: 'When Asriel Dreemurr does a push-up, he pushes the Earth down.'”

“Oh. So they're saying I'm really strong and tough?” Asriel asked. “Which I am,” he quickly added.

“'Asriel Dreemurr walks into a bar. The bar ducks.' ”

That one took a moment, but Asriel pretended to laugh at it right away. It felt good to be reminded that there were plenty of humans out there on his side. “Thanks.”

“'Average monster fights for justice 8 times a day' factoid actually statistical error. Asriel Dreemurr, who fights 1,000 times a day, is an outlier and should not have been counted.' That's a double meme right there.”

“Hey, maybe I should change my name to 'Asriel Memerr'. ”

“King Memerr.”

“Ugh, no, that's dumb. Never mind.”

“So, uh… this is why you're in the hospital now?”

“Yup,” Asriel bragged. “I'm just as strong as all the memes say. Wanna come over and, uh…”

_Asriel, I read what you just thought, and I don't think you should—_

“…feel my muscles?”

 _Oh my god,_ Asriel thought. _Did I really just say that?_

 _You said it. You can't_ un- _say it._

Selim snorted with laughter. “Uh, actually, I was just heading out to go clothes shopping with Cervus.”

“Clothes shopping?”

“Yeah, none of Cervus' old clothes fit my old body and none of my old clothes fit her old body. And it's kinda weird wearing each other's clothes.”

“But not being stuck in each other's bodies?”

“Well, yeah, that's weird too. But we're stuck like that. We're not stuck wearing each other's clothes. Can I visit tomorrow?”

“S-sure. Yeah, that's okay. I'm not doing anything.”

They both said goodbye and hung up. Asriel languished in bed. _Frisk, what if Selim just thinks I'm their friend?_

 _You_ are _their friend._

 _Like,_ just _their friend._

 _Asriel,_ of course _they just think you're friends. You haven't actually asked Selim on a date yet. You can do it when they visit tomorrow!_

_T-tomorrow?_

_Yeah, you can just say, “Hey, Selim, would you like to go on a date?”_

_What if they say no? Or what if they want to say no, but they say yes, because I'm a prince? Or what if—_

_What if Papyrus busts through the door and makes you try his dessert spaghetti? What if Zero pops in tonight to use your bathroom ? Don't worry about it._

Asriel still worried about it. And he kept worrying about it late into the night.

 _No one told me having a crush would involve this much worrying,_ Asriel thought as he began to fall asleep.

_Don't sweat it. You know, for your first crush, you've already got the awkward flirting bit down pat. I think you might be a natural at this romance thing, Asriel._

_Aww, thanks, Frisk._

 – 

Asriel woke up in the middle of the night to hear a familiar voice emanating from the bathroom. It was singing. Loudly. Asriel could hear them through the locked door, over the running water. _“I just wanna be a lover… not a red-eyed, screaming ghoul…”_

Who could be using his own bathroom? Who could have gotten into his room? In his groggy, waking state, Asriel tried to identify the intruder's voice.

_I wish it'd picked another… to be its killing tool…”_

The voice's owner was trying vainly to match the original singer's cadence, but their voice was a bit too soft and high-pitched to manage it.

_“Black Blade!… Black Blade!… Forged a billion years ago… Killing so its power… can grow…”_

The intruder finished their shower. Asriel heard a hair dryer start to blow. Soon the intruder started making strange noises with their mouth, which Asriel realized were an attempt to emulate a guitar solo.

Asriel crept out of bed and made his way to the door, ignoring the hot pain shooting through his side, closing his hand on the doorknob…

…Only for the door to burst open in his face. Asriel stumbled backward, falling to the floor, and stared up into a pair of familiar red eyes. His mouth went dry.

“I'm sorry, Azzy. Did I wake you up?” Zero asked, unceremoniously dropping the towel they'd been using to pat their hair dry to the floor. Another towel hung around their body like a toga . Their hair, shaggy and still heavy with water, hung down to their waist. Deep blue-gray shadows circled their eyes, but Zero's scarlet irises still sparkled, full of vitality.

He'd almost forgotten their voice. Their devilish smile. But Asriel could never erase those eyes from his memory. _“Zero… ”_

Two years' worth of torment flickered past in Asriel's head. Everything Zero had ever tried to take from him, and everything they were still trying to take from him.

Before Asriel was even aware of it, his fist had sunken into Zero's cheek. He wasn't even conscious of it until the shockwave from the impact sent tremors up his forearm. Zero stumbled backward, staggering over the bathroom threshold and slipping against the wet tiles. They hit the floor. Asriel pressed on, hitting them again and again, his arm and fist rising up and coming back down with mechanical persistence and precision, with each cycle becoming more spattered with red and black blood. Asriel dug his knee into their stomach and continued to rain blows down at his enemy. Eventually, as his punches gradually slowed and then stopped, he realized he'd been shouting.

Zero's mouth gaped wide open, their eyes squeezed shut. Blood trickled from their split lower lip. At first, Asriel thought they'd let out a silent scream, but then a slow, creaking chuckle escaped from their throat. Their leg lashed out before Asriel could react, connecting with the injury on his side, sending a debilitating jolt through his entire body. Asriel hit the floor, immobilized, and Zero stood up.

“It won't do you any good, Azzy, ” Zero told him as they dragged Asriel by his legs back into the bedroom. The cut on their lip had already healed, and the bruise on their cheek had faded away completely. “I've got to hand it to you, though. You've really grown a lot since I took your eye.”

Asriel tried to say something, but only a moan escaped his mouth.

“Unfortunately for you, I'm not really here right now. You could say it's a kind of astral projection. My real body is lying on a couch eating Cheetos and drinking Mountain Dew right now. ” And then Zero vanished, their body dissolving into the air and leaving the damp towel behind to flop to the floor. Zero reappeared on Asriel's other side, fully clothed and sitting on the bed. They were wearing (of course) a striped green-and-yellow sweater. “Neat trick, huh?”

“H-how…”

“Tch tch tch.” Zero wagged their finger. “A magician never reveals their secret.” They stood up and walked in a circle around Asriel. “I'm not here to gloat at you, or put the fear of God into you. Well, okay, I kind of am.” Zero pulled a phone from their pocket, then grabbed Asriel's phone off of the nightstand. “I am here to give you a message.”

Zero knelt down next to Asriel as the prince struggled to his knees and laid their arm across his shoulders. Asriel shivered as they drew closer to him. He tried to summon some fire to drive the Zero away, but couldn't even manage to conjure a spark. Zero's skin was ice cold as if they really were some kind of zombie or vampire. Asriel's body froze under their touch. The manic energy that had surged through him when he'd first laid eyes on Zero had drained out of him, and Asriel felt utterly, completely helpless. A soft whimper was the only sound he could produce.

“There.” Zero laid both phones on the floor. “There's the Asriel I remember.”

Zero started playing with their own phone. Asriel couldn't make out exactly what they were doing on it, but soon, Asriel's phone started to vibrate on the floor.

“It's a beautiful day out,” Zero said, pressing the phone closer to Asriel's ear. “The sun is shining… Birds are singing… On days like these, kids like you…” They hissed out their next few words. _“…should be glued to their phones, like everyone else!”_

A robotic voice pierced through Asriel's ear. “ ｗｅｌ - ｃｏｍｅ - ｔｏ - ｔｈｅ - ｏｔｈ - ｅｒ - ｓｉｄｅ - ｏｆ - ｈｅａ - ｖｅｎ . ”

There was a deafening electronic shriek, and Asriel screamed. His blood was boiling. His nerves were on fire. Every muscle, every tendon ached and burned . Zero pressed the phone closer to his head, their free hand clamped around Asriel's wrist like a freezing steel vice, their knee pinning him to the floor and holding him in place .

Asriel wasn't sure how long the torture lasted. Seconds seemed to drag on like hours. He was screaming the whole time. He wondered if anyone could hear him.

And then, suddenly, it ended, and Zero let the phone drop to the ground. Asriel went limp, sucking in as deep a breath as he could and letting it out in short, ragged gasps. His body had gone, mercifully, numb. At first, he could feel nothing but his heart beating against his chest and his lungs haltingly contract and expand. Gradually, sensation returned to his body, first his head and chest, and then his arms and legs, and eventually, the tips of his paws. Everything ached.

“See, that wasn't so bad, was it?” Zero told him as they stood over him. “It'd have been a lot less painful if you'd have just answered your phone for once.”

Asriel whimpered.

“Still itching for a fight, brother?” they asked mockingly. Zero spread their arms. “I'll even give you another free shot.”

“W-wh…” Asriel could barely muster the energy to force the words out. _“Why?”_ He held back a sob. He didn't want to cry in front of Zero…

 _“Why do you hate me?”_ he cried. _“Why do you want to hurt me so much? W-why do you want to hurt my f-family, and my friends, and destroy everything—everything we've worked so h-hard for?”_ Begging for answers like this made Asriel feel sick. The shame only made his tears flow more freely. _“Is it something I did? Is it something I said?”_ He sniffled. _“I'm s-so, so, suh—sorry, Chara…”_

Without a word, Zero picked up their towels, returned them to the bathroom, and turned the light off. When they were finished, their body vanished into dust once more, and this time they did not reappear. Asriel was left alone in the darkness and quiet.

_Asriel?_

Asriel didn't answer.

 _Asriel, are you all right?_ Frisk asked.

“N-no…”

_I'm sorry…_

Asriel raised an aching paw to his face and wiped away his tears. “What could you have done?” he muttered.

_N-nothing. That's why I'm sorry._

“I can't fight Zero,” Asriel whispered. It hurt to say it, but it was true. The gulf between them… was far larger than Asriel had ever imagined. Zero had made him feel… like an ant caught under a magnifying glass. “I—can't fight them. I'm weak.”

_You're not weak. Asriel, you're—_

“How much more are they gonna take from me, Frisk? Alphys is gone… They've probably got Undyne by now, otherwise she'd be here… Who's next? Papyrus and Sans? Mom and Dad? ” Asriel's voice trembled. “S-Selim?”

_Asriel…_

The bedroom door burst open, flooding the room with soft yellow-orange light from the hall. Toriel and Asgore were there, minutes too late. “Asriel!”

Asgore helped the boy to his feet and back onto his bed. “Are you all right, Asriel?”

Asriel shook his head.

“We are so, so sorry… We only just got back, we heard you shouting from all the way across the courtyard…” Toriel cradled Asriel in her arms. “Did you have a nightmare? Are you sick? Did somebody attack you?”

Asriel nodded. “T-they came back… I couldn't do anything…”

Toriel patted him on the forehead. “There, there. We are here now. We will protect you.”

“…Even from Zero?”

–

Formickey bowed. “Revenant-7 is live, Doctor Gaster,” the ant guard told Gaster. “You'll be happy to know I followed the script to the letter. I even sang that song Zero likes so much.”

Gaster hardly looked up from his desk, occupied by Zero's newest demands. [Very good. I was worried you hadn't rehearsed enough,] he signed. [Did he put up much of a fight?]

“He's got a good right hook for someone who's been stabbed in the stomach and spent the past week and a half in bed.” Formickey touched the side of his insectoid face as if expecting a bruise on his carapace. “Screamed like hell when I programmed him, though… And then cried. He did a _lot_ of crying.” Formickey chuckled.

[Yes, Prince Asriel was always very… free with his emotions.]

“You should've seen the look on his face.” Formickey sighed. “I think I really freaked him out. Kinda felt sorry for the kid.”

Gaster waved Formickey away. [I will let Zero know that the Revenant Project is finally complete. Thank you for your assistance.]

Formickey bowed again, then began to dematerialize.

[Don't just use that to replace walking! The air ducts are _not_ your personal transit system! ] Gaster signed, his hand fluttering angrily as Formickey crumbled away and vanished, leaving nothing behind but a trace of dust on an invisible breeze.

He scowled. Nothing pained Gaster more than seeing his work used so frivolously. He hadn't been so frustrated since the time Impact had lost his keys and used one of his Gaster Blasters to get into his house.

An alarm started to sound. Gaster took a look at the security cameras and quickly found the source of the disturbance. It was _her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The little devil on my shoulder: "You know, it's been quite a while since you had Asriel get dunked on so hard he cried."
> 
> This mostly happened because I was desperate to include a scene with Zero singing along to Blue Oyster Cult in the shower.


	25. Hanging on the Precipice of Zero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Undyne and Alphys make a daring escape.

There was a knock at Alphys' door. It was 12:35 AM—it was either Undyne with a mission update, or Gaster with a scientific breakthrough which simply _could not wait_. The fact that Gaster kept occupying Alphys' time at such a crucial time of night made Undyne very suspicious. The security system rebooted every night at exactly fifty seconds past 12:34, and while some cameras and microphones came on sooner than others, in Alphys' cell and the corridor directly outside, that left exactly five minutes for clandestine activities. Gaster did have access to the entire security system, and was no doubt aware of each of its blind spots, and monopolizing Alphys' time at this precise window of opportunity could mean that he suspected a traitor in his midst.

Alphys hit the intercom button next to the door. “Who is it?”

“ _Call me Fishmael.”_ The door slid open, and Undyne removed the balaclava from her head and pulled down her scarf. With the gray-green body paint on her scales and prosthetic nose firmly affixed to her face, and without her fiery auburn hair, she was barely recognizable, despite the unmistakable snaggle-fanged grin.

“Hi, Fishmael.” It still felt so disconcerting to stare at Undyne's disguise and _almost_ be able to see her girlfriend's face behind it. “I-is tonight… the night?”

Undyne nodded, then held out her hand. “We're going. Let me have the flash drive—I can hide it under my body armor.”

Alphys pulled the drive from her pocket. She'd kept loading more and more files onto it from the computers while Gaster's back had been turned. It had been taxing work, but when the pressure got to be too much for Alphys she could always depend on Gaster to notice, but misdiagnose, her anxiety and give her the rest of the day off. He seemed quite a sap for a monster with such sinister goals.

“Why can't I hold onto it?”

Undyne tucked the flash drive away. “Because _you_ are soft and squishy, and my armor is not. And things might get a little rough.” She grabbed Alphys by the wrist. “Let's roll.”

Undyne led Alphys by the hand down the corridor. Alphys worked hard to keep up with her girlfriend's long-legged stroll, but ended up being half-dragged, half-walking. “Not many guards are out at this time of night. I mean, it's not like we—er, _they—_ have any prisoners, apart from you.”

“So we've got a clear shot?”

“Security gets a little tighter near the exits. And a little… automated. Some eyes here never sleep. If we hurry, we can at least get that far before the rest of the watchdogs come back online.”

They rounded a corner, and a single guard noticed them. They'd been playing a game on their phone, but snapped to attention, hastily shoving the phone underneath their cloak. “Hey, Fishmael!” They waved. “Are you, uh… taking the prisoner somewhere?”

“Oh, hey… uh, Beartholdt? Yup. Gaster's orders.” Undyne shrugged. “He's really swamped with work right now, so he asked me to bring Alphys over for him!”

Alphys wondered how Undyne could tell who the guard was when everyone hid their face and no one wore nametags. Beartholdt stroked their chin. “Y-you know Gaster's lab is the other way, right?”

“Is it?” Undyne asked. “Sorry, we, uh…”

“Got a little turned around,” Alphys said. “Yeah, I mean, the layout of this place is so confusing…”

A blue-green light appeared underneath the guard's feet.

Beartholdt laughed. “Yeah, I got lost on my way to the bathroom once. Well, don't keep the doctor waiting…”

“Yeah, so we'll just be going.” Undyne took a step back, and then an electric lance, a literal bolt from the blue, jabbed out of the floor, hitting the guard right on the chin. The impact snapped their head back and lifted them a full foot in the air, and they hit the ground in a heap. Undyne pulled the spear out and started walking. A few blue sparks arced between the spear and the walls and floor as she walked. “Well, there's our time advantage.”

Alphys passed by the limp body of the guard, then hurried to keep up with Undyne's pace. “Y-you didn't, uh…”

“Beartholdt? They'll be fine. Hell of a headache, but yeah. Knew 'em back when they were a Royal Guard.”

Undyne and Alphys made it to one of the catwalks overlooking the Core's Zero Engine. The glow from below was brighter now than ever. A never-ending stream of ice, carved into enormous blocks, poured from conveyor belts protruding from holes in the walls, disappearing in the white abyss and releasing clouds of white steam. The heat of the engine created a shimmer in the thick, static-charged air, and Alphys felt the electricity dance across her scales. She'd never seen the Core so… _energized._ It certainly couldn't be sustainable.

Arcs of electricity spat back and forth between Undyne's spear and the metal catwalk and guard rails. The spear had become hazy and distorted in the heavy atmosphere; Alphys wondered if Undyne could still use it as a weapon if she had to.

“A little way further, then some more corridors. Should take us out right at New Home. From there, it shouldn't be too hard.” Undyne smiled at Alphys. “We're almost home.”

As Alphys and Undyne reached the middle of the catwalk, the door on the other side slid open, and another guard walked out. “Hey!” They crossed their arms. “Where are you taking the prisoner, exactly?”

Undyne had already dematerialized the spear right as the door had opened. “For a walk,” she replied. “Don't worry. I got this.”

“Is it sanctioned? Because Doctor Gaster doesn't seem to think so.” The guard took a few steps down the catwalk, removing their hood, lowering their scarf, and pulling off their balaclava to reveal a cobalt-blue snake's head.

“Hey, Snaca.”

“Hey, Undyne.” Snaca smirked. The heat pits just above her mouth flared. “Yeah. Cute disguise.” She cocked her head. “Did you take the nose from one of those Groucho Marx kits?”

Undyne readied a spear. It flickered in a way that did not exactly instill confidence. “Alphys. Step back.”

Alphys turned around and saw three more guards file through, approaching from the other side, boxing them in. They crept forward in a single-file line. She and her protector could neither go forward nor backward.

Undyne took a glance behind her, saw the other guards, and swore. “No, stay close!” She turned back and raised her spear just in time to parry Snaca's sudden lunge toward them. She pushed Snaca back, sending her flying a few meters, and threw her spear back at the single-file line of guards. The guards vanished into clouds of smoke and the spear flew harmlessly through them, hitting the grated metal catwalk and fizzling out on contact with the metal. The guards re-formed as soon as the spear was gone and continued their approach. Snaca landed on her feet and skidded backward, her hand-fangs grinding against the catwalk's metal railing as she came to a stop.

The first of the three guards grabbed Alphys by the wrist and dragged her away from Undyne. She screamed, and Undyne's hand shot out and grabbed her by the other arm, starting a tug-of-war with Alphys as the rope. Alphys felt as though her arms were going to be wrenched from their sockets.

“Too bad, Undyne, you're dealing with the Revenants tonight!” Snaca crowed as the guard behind the first guard leaped to the right and scampered up the railing, lashing their leg out at Undyne's head. She ducked and shot a spear in the guard's direction, but they turned into smoke again. The third guard leaped onto the first guard's head and used them as a springboard, jumping once again and bringing their leg down on Undyne's outstretched arm right at the elbow. Undyne threw a spear at them as her hand broke away from Alphys' arm, but the third guard turned into smoke as soon as their foot had done the necessary damage. The spear dissipated after flying a few feet in the air as the first guard stumbled backward with Alphys in tow.

Snaca slashed at Undyne with her hand-fangs, the mouths set into her palm pink and gaping. Undyne's left arm hung at her side, injured but not broken. Every punch she made and swipe of her spear connected with a cloud of dust which reformed, almost immediately, into Snaca's body. Undyne turned around and ran after the guard who had absconded with Alphys, barreling into the fleeing guard and kneeing them in the small of the back just before they reached the door. Their reaction speed wasn't fast enough for them to turn to dust in time, and all three bodies collided against the catwalk. The guard turned to dust a second too late, and Undyne fell on top of Alphys.

The guard reformed above Undyne and threw a punch at the back of her head. Undyne drove her leg into the guard's stomach. This one had much slower reaction times than the other guards, always vanishing just too late to avoid Undyne's attacks.

The other two guards, one on each side, formed light-spears of their own and jabbed at Undyne. She grabbed each spear and pulled the guards toward her. They collided above Undyne, their heads smacking together. Both slumped over on top of Undyne and Alphys, unconscious. Undyne pushed them aside and grabbed Alphys, running at full tilt toward Snaca.

Snaca pushed herself up using the railings and kicked forward with both legs, but Undyne slid underneath her and continued her dash for freedom. Snaca whirled around, fury burning in her slitted eyes, and ran after Undyne.

The first guard materialized in front of Undyne, who immediately decked them in the face. They went down, and Undyne grabbed their limp body and threw them at Snaca. Snaca dematerialized, the body flying through the cloud that had been her body, and the particles suspended in the air raced past Undyne and reformed right behind her. Snaca's twisting, serpentine appendages locked around Undyne's arms and held her in place. Alphys stumbled and hit the metal grating, her glasses dangling from her snout. Undyne stared at her, her eye seeming to say “I'm sorry.”

Undyne stomped on the snake guard's toes. Snaca grimaced, but wouldn't budge. “It's over, Undyne. I always was a bit cleverer than you, wasn't I?” Her thin, forked tongue flicked in and out, tasting the air. “I never knew body paint could mask someone's scent so well… but there's the one I know, buried beneath all that makeup.” Snaca tightened her grip on Undyne's outstretched arms as the fish monster squirmed.

“Neat trick. The whole smoke thing.” Undyne kept stomping on Snaca's toes. “Not like you can do it right now, though! You don't think I've got you—” Undyne started to kick at Snaca's shins— “Right where I want you?”

Snaca didn't budge. Neither did Undyne. The snake monster tried to make some small talk to her prisoner, but Undyne refused to answer.

“We used to date,” Snaca explained to Alphys.

“Once,” Undyne growled. “And I've never regretted anything so much in my life.”

Snaca kneed the captain in the back. “We were a cute couple,” she countered.

The far door opened yet again, and the tall, thin form of Doctor Gaster appeared behind it. He stepped over the threshold, gingerly stepped over the three unconscious Revenants, and walked forward.

[What are you doing out here?] Gaster signed at Alphys as she pushed her glasses back up her snout. The frames had twisted a little, although the lenses were still intact, and so the glasses sat just a bit askew in front of her eyes. [I wanted you to supervise the final Revenant's activation. So exciting… You would have loved it.] He paused and took in the scene. [Alphys… Is this rogue guard kidnapping you?]

“I don't think anyone's getting kidnapped tonight, Doc,” Snaca said as she kneed Undyne in the butt. “Not with your MVP around, at least.”

Alphys took a deep breath. “N-no. I'm not being kidnapped,” she said. Her voice trembled, but she tried to sound firm and forceful as best she could. “I'm not being kidnapped! I'm leaving!” She stood up straight and tried to make herself as tall as possible. “Of my own free will!”

Gaster was taken aback. [You… don't want to help us?]

“Of course not!” Alphys shouted. “I love humans! Humans… Humans invented anime! And instant noodles! A-and they invented games, where you get to pretend to date fictional characters! How can you look at all that and still think humans should be wiped out!? You guys are all nuts!”

Gaster's lower lip quivered. [Y-you… really think so? After everything I've done for you…] Gaster's hand trembled. [All the kindness I've shown you…]

“I know you're all mad, and I understand, you can be mad! You can want humans to do their part to make things right! T-that's okay! Because they _should!_ But… t-there are right answers, and there are w-wrong answers, and killing them all is never the right answer!”

Gaster took a few more steps toward her, rapidly closing the distance between them. Alphys felt a pit form in her stomach as he stared down at her, a look at absolute contempt forming on his cracked, ruined face. […And this is how you repay me?] He scowled. [You ungrateful, yellow skink!] His hand shot out, grabbing Alphys by the throat and lifting her high into the air. Alphys's stubby legs kicked out, her tail thrashing uselessly as she hung from Gaster's outstretched arm.

“Let Alphys go, you asshole!” Undyne shouted, prompting another kick from Snaca. Gaster ignored her.

With his other hand still pinned uselessly behind his back, Gaster couldn't talk. But his smoldering eyes told Alphys everything. _How dare you_ , they seemed to say. Alphys scrabbled at the cuffs of Gaster's suit as black spots danced in the corners of her vision. She let out a pathetic gurgle.

Undyne started to form spears in her outstretched hands. In the electrically-charged atmosphere, it was difficult to coalesce enough electricity to create a spear, and the result was two hazy, indistinct blobs that could probably fly about as well as a wet paper bag. Snaca kicked her a few more times and tightened her grip around Undyne's arms, but Undyne was not deterred.

Undyne took the lightning and forced it back into her body. And the lightning, on its way to the metal catwalk below Undyne's and Snaca's feet, traveled through both of their bodies. Snaca screeched and then fell silent. Her body tightened, spasmed, and then went limp, dropping off of Undyne's back as the unrestrained fish monster rushed toward Gaster.

“Get your hand off _my girlfriend,_ scarface!” Undyne bellowed as she charged Gaster, her open palm slamming into the crook of the doctor's elbow. Gaster's clenched hand reflexively shot open. Alphys fell to the catwalk, massaging her bruised throat, as Undyne continued to rip into Gaster with a flurry of punches. Gaster stumbled backward under the onslaught.

“You don't kidnap people!” Undyne snarled as her fist connected with Gaster's face. She stuck her thumb out and jabbed it into his eye socket for good measure. Gaster reeled back. “You don't act all nice and kind and expect them to fawn over you for not being as much of a jerk as you could have been!” Her other fist slammed into the other side of Gaster's face, forming a hairline fracture that perpendicularly bisected both of the vertical scars traveling up and down his head. “Girls aren't vending machines!” Her next punch hit Gaster in the chest. “You don't just shove kindness coins into them until they do what you want!”

Gaster staggered backward as a green aura clung to his body. He stopped in his tracks, his body still reeling from the blows.

Undyne smirked. “You're staying right there, Gaster. And Alphys and me? We're leaving.” She turned around and knelt down beside Alphys. “You all right, Alphys-chan?”

Alphys couldn't help but smile at the honorific. “Yeah,” she squeaked, her windpipe still sore. “Y-yeah, I'll be fine.” She stood up. Her legs were trembling, but Undyne held her steady.

Alphys looked over at Gaster. He was hanging his head in… dejection? Shame? “G-goodbye, Doctor Gaster!” she called out. “Y-you're really smart, too bad about the whole… uh, evil thing! M-maybe you'll be a good scientist one day!”

Gaster raised his head and looked at her.

“Uh, I meant good as in morally, not good as in, like, skilled,” Alphys explained.

Gaster raised his hand and signed a farewell. [I'll remember you.]

“Y-you'll… _what?”_

Two enormous skulls appeared by the side of the catwalk, wicked, bestial, with long, thin, predatory muzzles. Light shone through the gaps between their fangs and in the sockets of their eyes. One floated between Alphys and Gaster, the other between Undyne and the exit. Their mouths opened and solid columns of blinding light shot out of both, incinerating two chunks of the walkway. Undyne grabbed Alphys by the collar and ran as the two sections of the catwalk crumbled under the intense heat and force and the long segment they were on plummeted into the depths of the Zero Engine. The skulls crumbled away. Undyne hit the edge of the catwalk and jumped, Alphys trailing behind her.

Undyne's fingers brushed against the still-hot edge of the catwalk and dug into the grating. Steam curled from her fingers as the burning metal ate into her scaly flesh. Undyne gritted her teeth and dug tighter.

Alphys looked down, into the white-hot abyss an unfathomable distance below her as she dangled from Undyne's other hand. Her breath caught in her throat. Undyne's grip on her collar was vice-like, but Alphys could feel gravity pulling her out of her labcoat. The sleeves hiked up and dug into her armpits. She was going to fall. Into the depths of the Core. She wouldn't survive.

“Undyne!” she wailed. “U-Undyne, we're gonna die!”

Undyne tried to pull herself up, but found herself short-handed. “Alphys… climb up my back.”

Alphys tried to raise her arms to grab onto Undyne's arm, but felt her sleeves slip even further. “I can't!”

Undyne groaned, then began to swing her arm. Alphys felt her stomach churn from vertigo. “What are you doing!?” she screamed as she began to sway back and forth in a widening arc. “Undyne, are you insane?”

“C-centripetal force!” Undyne hissed through gritted teeth. _“Centripetal force!”_ And as Alphys felt herself lift higher and higher into the air and Undyne swung over the edge of the catwalk, Undyne let go. Alphys couldn't even think about how physically dubious this whole maneuver was, and tried to make peace with her imminent death. She sailed through the air and hit the grated walkway, scraping her chin. She could taste her own blood.

Alphys looked across the chasm Gaster had created as her heartbeat gradually slowed to normal. Gaster's body had slumped over but was still rooted to the spot by Undyne's ability. Alphys assumed he'd fallen unconscious, using his last bit of strength to summon those laser-shooting skulls for one final attack. She shuddered. Gaster didn't seem to be much of a fighter, but his weapons were immensely powerful. If he'd honed his skills like Undyne had, or his “Revenant” warriors had, Gaster would have been unstoppable.

Undyne panted. “That… was a close one. Let's go, Alphys.” She staggered to her feet, nursing her burned fingers. “Damn. There's probably a ton of guards waiting for us.” She took Alphys by the hand. Alphys' entire body ached. There probably wasn't a single inch of her body that wouldn't be black and blue by morning. “Not much farther.”

Alphys and Undyne stepped through the door, back into the blue corridors. The air was much cooler and lighter, and even though it had been filtered and re-filtered dozens of times, it tasted almost fresh. Undyne's spear formed in her hand, solid and distinct.

There was one person standing in front of Undyne, in the center of the corridor. Their body was emaciated, their long brown hair thin and having lost its luster. The whites of both of their eyes were jet-black, their red irises like two ruby rings in an inky abyss. Two short portions of tubing dangled from their left arm, plastic zip-ties tied tightly around them to keep the blood from leaking out. A trail of scattered dots of blood, dripped from the cut tubes, trailed behind them. A sheathed sword was haphazardly buckled to the side of their hip.

“Hello, Undyne,” they said. “Ready for Round Two?”

“ _Zero,”_ Alphys whispered.

Undyne looked at her, then back to Zero, then back to her. _“That's_ Zero?”

Alphys nodded. “T-they're dying…”

Undyne stepped forward. “Well, _this_ is gonna be easy.” She cracked her neck.

“Is _this_ what a medical doctor does, Alphys?” Zero asked Alphys. “Abandon their patients in the middle of the night? At their most vulnerable?” They took a step forward, holding their arms out. “Alphys. You're better than this. So why don't I give you a choice? Take a step back, and I will let you stay by my side.” They smiled. “Step forward, and you will die next to your darling, dear Undyne.”

Alphys took a deep breath, ignored the tremors running up and down her spine, raised her foot, started to move it in front of the other, and…

Suddenly, Zero was just a bit farther away than they had been just an instant ago. Undyne looked at her, confused. “Alphys? What are you doing…?”

Zero's grin grew wider. Alphys raised her foot, took a deep breath—

And Zero was even farther away. What was going on? Was she so afraid of Zero that even her subconscious couldn't defy them?

“A-Alphys, this is no time for you to lose your nerve!” Undyne shouted at her.

“I-I'm not—”

“Now, now, Undyne. Doctor Alphys has made her choice.” Zero shrugged. “It seems she values her medical ethics more than she does you. A wise decision.”

Undyne growled and brandished her spear. Zero crossed their arms, staring at her haughtily, and as Undyne drew her arm back—

The lightning spear hit the far side of the corridor, and the door exploded in a shower of blue and orange sparks. Alphys gasped in horror. Undyne stared at the bleeding stump where her right arm once had been. It took a second for her to realize it was gone. Zero hadn't moved an inch from their spot, but Alphys noticed that their arms, which had been crossed left-over-right just an instant ago, were now crossed right-over-left. But she hadn't seen Zero move at all…

Undyne roared, taking a running start toward Zero…

…And hit the floor, her left leg severed just below the knee.

Alphys screamed. _“Undyne!”_

Undyne pushed herself up, staring up at Zero with hate burning in her single eye. Blood pooled from her severed arm and leg. _“You…”_

Zero took a step toward Undyne. “You won Round One… Looks like I'm winning Round Two…” They knelt down in front of Undyne. “It _would_ be a tie, but something tells me you won't be around for Round Three.”

Undyne snarled at Zero like a rabid animal, and three spears shot out of the floor in front of her. Zero was already standing a few feet away. And then, suddenly, Undyne was on her knees, and they were right in front of her, their hands on either side of her head, ready to snap her neck in a single, savage motion…

“ _No!”_ Alphys shouted.

Zero looked at her, their hands frozen.

“I-if you h-h-hurt Undyne… If you kill her… I'll—I'll run! Right back there, and—I'll throw myself into the Core!”

Zero looked down at Undyne, and then back at Alphys. They raised an eyebrow, as if to say, “Is that so?”

“A-and you'll die without me, Zero. We both know it.” Alphys took a deep breath. “Let her go, Zero. _All the way_. Let her go all the way back to the surface, and you'll have me. I-I'll stay here, and I'll take care of you, and I'll work on whatever you and Gaster want me to work on. But only— _only—_ if you let her live.”

Zero let their hands drop to their sides. And in the blink of an eye, Zero was in front of Alphys. She stumbled backwards, the air vanishing from her lungs. Alphys could feel her heart skip a beat. Their movements were supernaturally quick, faster than the eye could follow.

Or was that really it? Alphys' mind raced, her pulse pounding. Was it speed on Zero's side? Had she really, truly taken those two steps back herself? She looked down at herself, and saw a few drops of red-brown blood on her sleeve. Where had that come from…?

Everything clicked, and Alphys understood how Zero moved so fast. She glanced over Zero's shoulder at Undyne. She'd never seen the captain look so miserable. _Has Undyne figured it out, too?_ Alphys though. _Does she know what Zero's ability is?_

Black ichor mixed with red blood slowly trickled out of Zero's left nostril, hanging on their upper lip for just a second. Their tongue darted out and licked it away. “Fair enough,” they said. They pulled a phone from some hidden pocket within their loose medical smock and barked orders into it. “This is Zero. Sector 7-G-12-Omega, Corridor E. Have someone collect Captain Undyne and bring her to the Newest Home General Hospital.” They put the phone away and smiled at Alphys. “Now, Doctor, will you hook me back up to the dialysis machine, please?” Their voice was all honey.

“W-w-with p-pleasure,” Alphys stammered. She took one last look behind Zero, at Undyne. The captain turned her head, but Alphys could only see the patch covering her left eye. _“I'm sorry,”_ she whispered.

Zero grabbed Alphys by the arm and walked her down the corridor, taking her past Undyne. She turned to face the captain, stumbling as Zero tugged her arm. “I-I love you,” she told Undyne.

Undyne nodded and gave Alphys a broad smile. “Same.”

Zero dragged Alphys away.

“ _Round Three!”_ Undyne called out as Zero stepped out of the corridor. Her voice was hoarse and raw. _“I'll be counting down the seconds!”_

–

Asriel didn't eat breakfast that morning. Snow piled against the windowpanes in his bedroom. Occasionally, when the sun poked through the gaps in the clouds overhead, the rays of light would dance in the crystalline fringes of the snow on the glass.

In the few months after the Barrier had fallen down, sunlight was still enough of a novelty that feeling its warmth on his fur could almost make him forget about Zero. It offered no such comfort today. Asriel had grown too accustomed to it.

There were three knocks on the door, heavy yet soft. “Asriel? Son?” Asgore's voice was gentle enough that the door to Asriel's bedroom was enough to muffle it. “Are you awake?”

Asriel sighed.

“May I come in? Please?”

“Sure,” Asriel muttered.

Asgore slowly creaked the door open and shuffled into the room. He was holding a steaming mug in his paws. “Hello, Asriel.” He knelt by the side of the bed. “Your mother made pancakes this morning.”

“Okay.”

“Yours got cold, but… it's not a big deal. We can make more when you're feeling up to eating.”

“Okay.”

“We're sorry. Your mom and I. I know you must think we only have time for you when you're hurt or sick.” Asgore looked down. “If you feel that way, we understand.”

Asriel understood. He didn't like it, but he understood. Running a country must be taxing enough without having to constantly negotiate with the neighbors. “It's okay.”

“Are _you_ okay?”

Asriel took a deep breath.

“Do you think you'd feel better if you had some…” Asgore offered the mug to Asriel. “Some hot chocolate?”

Asriel peered down at the mug beneath his nose. A cluster of small, half-melted marshmallows floated on the surface of the hot chocolate. The aroma was heavenly. Asriel took the mug with both paws, and when Asgore was sure the prince had a steady grip on it, pulled his own paws away. The warmth traveled up Asriel's arms as he raised the mug to his lips and took a sip. It was just the right temperature.

“What happened last night… You don't have to tell us about it if you don't feel ready. But we'll make sure it never happens again. Until all of this is taken care of, your mother and I will not leave this castle. No more traveling. No more talk shows or press conferences. We will be here for you, Asriel.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Asriel held the mug close to his chest. “Y'know, since that video went viral yesterday? Selim told me people are saying I'm… that I'm strong, and tough, and I fight for justice…” He looked into his father's concerned eyes. “A-am I all those things?”

Asgore nodded. “Yes, Asriel. You are. And your mother probably won't approve of me telling you this, but I couldn't be more proud of you.”

“T-then why couldn't I fight Zero? Wh-why couldn't I protect myself? When I saw them, I—I tried, but they—and it was all gone, and I—I was, it was like I was twelve again, and—”

Asgore patted Asriel on the shoulder. “Asriel. Just because you can fight, and just because you are strong… That does not mean you can fight, or be strong, all the time. Everybody has moments of weakness. Moments of fear.”

The words of comfort felt empty to Asriel. “I wouldn't have stood a chance anyway… Zero isn't a human or a monster, they're—the way I felt, like they're like a tornado or a volcano, you can't _fight_ them…”

“Asriel, if Zero were truly so powerful, they would not need to take advantage of you like this. Perhaps Zero, for all their sound and fury, is like the great and powerful wizard who turned out to be just a tiny old man behind a curtain. Why would they prey on your fear, if not to hide their own weakness?” Asgore smiled, a twinkle in his eyes. “Would you like to join us downstairs? It is nearly lunch time…”

Asriel finished the hot chocolate. He was starting to feel much better. “Sure.”

Asgore helped Asriel out of bed. “Oh, and your mother and I discussed this over breakfast. You are no longer grounded.”

Asriel couldn't help but crack a smile. “But it's not like I…” He took a step, but felt no pain from his side. He reached for where the wound was, pulling up his nightshirt and feeling for the scar, and found nothing. “I-I'm fine,” he gasped in disbelief.

“It's a miracle…” Asgore looked down at the empty mug. “There must have been some special magic in that chocolate.”

 _You've been getting the calls, right? I guess it's no wonder you're so tough._ That one line from the fight with Formickey echoed in Asriel's head. Were those calls meant to “trigger” something inside of him?

Asriel and Asgore walked out of the bedroom. “I-I think maybe, I should still go to the hospital, have some tests done…”

“I thought you said you were fine.”

“Y-yeah, but, I mean, isn't that weird? Maybe I'm, like… anti-sick? Maybe a doctor should take a little look at my blood, or something. Maybe they'll find a miracle cure.”

“I suppose we could arrange it…”

They met Toriel on the way down the stairs. As soon as she caught sight of Asriel, she grabbed him in a spine-crushing embrace. “Oh, Asriel! You are finally out of bed!” She loosened her grip a bit, and Asriel took the opportunity to suck some air back into his lungs. “Are you feeling better?” she asked. “Your new friend came by, so I let them in and offered them tea.” Toriel set Asriel back down. “They're in the living room.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Asriel took another step down the stairs, then halted when he realized he was still wearing pajamas. “Should I get dressed?”

“Yes,” said Toriel.

“Probably,” said Asgore.

Asriel dashed up the stairs and slammed the bedroom door shut behind him. Toriel smiled at Asgore. Their son was going to be just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can fight Zero, but it'll cost you about an arm and a leg. *the crowd boos and starts throwing tomatoes*


	26. Asriel Dates a Furry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter... Just look at the title.

It was hard for Asriel to put what had happened to him last night aside, but apart from that, his day was going very well.

The wind blew hardest at the edge of Newest Home, where only thick concrete pillars and elegant wrought-iron grating stood between the ground and the open air. Here, the falling snow swirled around, caught in updrafts and eddies and blown every which way. It was just the right kind of snowing outside: thick, fluffy snowflakes twirled through the air with a slow and languid grace. The clouds broke not too far off to the west and the sun, already starting its descent to the horizon, made the snow sparkle in the air. It was the kind of winter weather Asriel could only describe as “romantic”. It was Asriel's third winter on the surface, and despite everything, it was still shaping up to be the best.

A gust of wind blew through the fence, showering Asriel and Selim with bitter cold snow. His arm pulled up as the wind tried to wrench his umbrella out of his grip. Asriel gritted his teeth and tried to pull the umbrella out of the way of the heavy wind. Selim did their part, grabbing the umbrella and helping Asriel force it down. The hard, polished hooflets on the tips of their fingers met Asriel's paws, and he felt his mind go hazy for a brief instant.

Asriel mustered a nervous laugh as he folded up the umbrella. “S-sorry about that, Selim.”

The deer-headed monster brushed snowflakes out of their long brown hair. Their ears twitched. “Maybe we should turn back.”

“If you want to, yeah, sure.” It was a nice view, but if Selim didn't want to be there, then neither did he.

Selim shivered, worming their hoof-fingers through their thick, crocheted green scarf. Asriel debated making his move and putting an arm around their shoulder right then and there. They'd appreciate it, right? They were cold, weren't they?

And, of course, because Asriel's soul had a roommate, “debate” was not just an expression.

 _It's kind of overstepping your boundaries at this point, Asriel,_ Frisk argued. _I mean, how would you feel if someone you'd just met just… started hugging you?_

_Frisk, if I remember correctly, you hugged everyone you met._

If Frisk had had a body, they would have shrugged. _Sometimes words failed me._

_So I should try talking?_

“Um, As—Prince Asriel? Are you…”

Asriel realized that Selim was talking to him. “Uh, sorry, I zoned out for a sec.” He caught a glimpse of their brilliant green eyes and zoned out for another “sec” before snapping out of it. “A-and don't bother with the 'prince' stuff. We're, uh, friends? Right?”

_Man, I don't think I've ever seen anyone as lovestruck as you._

“But… you _are_ a prince.”

Asriel shrugged. “J-just treat me like a normal guy. Being a prince just means a bunch of people pretend to like you.”

“And you get to rule a country when you grow up.”

Asriel laughed. “Eff that. I'm gonna turn this kingdom into a democracy and retire as soon as Mom and Dad step down.”

“What if you get stuck in an arranged marriage?” Selim asked. “And your queen doesn't like your retirement plan?”

Asriel nearly choked. “A-a what?”

“You know. In the old days, like the really old days, kings and queens from different countries would marry their kids together to form political alliances. And, I mean, I guess it probably still happens today, only all of our kings and queens basically just do nothing all day, because of democracy, so no one really cares.”

“No way! No one's gonna force me to marry anyone. If I marry someone, it's gonna be someone I love!” Asriel pounded his fist into an open palm for emphasis. The words that followed fell out of his mouth before his brain had time to process them. “Someone like you!”

 _Were you really ready to say that, Asriel?_ Frisk asked.

Selim blinked. “What?”

Asriel tried to feign ignorance. “…What?”

_Asriel, listen to me. Get down on one knee._

Asriel dropped down onto one knee.

_No, Asriel, you have to be facing Selim._

Asriel stood up, turned to his right, and got down on one knee again. Selim looked down at him, bemused.

_Now look up to them and say, “Selim, would you like to be my datefriend?”_

Asriel swallowed. “Um… Selimwouldyouliketobemydatefriend.”

_Try again, only slower._

Asriel repeated himself, slower this time. He was beginning to feel lightheaded.

“Your… date friend?”

Asriel nodded. “I-It's like a boyfriend or girlfriend, but not a boy, or a girl. L-like you, right? I-it's okay if you don't, uh, I mean, we can still be normal friends? Right?”

“Oh. I thought you were gonna propose to me. S-sure.”

“Which question were you answering?” The prince's heart was pounding.

“Y-yeah, uh… let's be… date friends? I guess?”

Asriel leaped to his feet and hugged Selim. It felt as good as he'd expected it to. “Thank you!” he shouted. _“Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!”_ He pulled away from them. Selim looked a little dazed. “I-I've never been anyone's datefriend before. S-sorry if I got carried away.”

“T-that's okay, neither have I. But, uh, technically, aren't you, like, a hundred years older than me?”

“I-I don't know what you mean, I'm only fifteen, I—I—”

“We had to learn all about this place's history before we moved here. You know you're history, right? You're like, if George Washington came back to life and started flirting with me…”

“Am I as good looking as George Washington?”

Selim laughed. “He had wooden teeth, so I'd say you're in a different league altogether.”

“Yeah, but did he have wooden teeth when he was fifteen?”

“I think so. That was like the 1700s, dentists practically hadn't been invented yet. Everyone probably had wooden teeth back then.”

Asriel nodded. Yes, that made sense to him. “Isn't that intimidating, or something?”

 _George Washington's dentures weren't actually made of wood, you know,_ Frisk tried to interject.

“What, wooden teeth?”

“No, dating someone who's a legend.”

“I mean, you're just a normal guy, right?”

“But, the eyepatch, and the fighting, and… Or do you…” Asriel sat down with his back to the fence. “N-never mind. I-is this your first winter here?”

Selim took a seat next to him. Very next to him. “Yeah. A bit colder than I thought it'd be…”

“Well, we're pretty high up.” Asriel could see Selim's breath coming out in little puffs of steam. “Why'd you and your parents come here, anyway?”

“Our country was starting to get, uh… kinda scary. Or, well, Mom and Mom thought so. You know how when an election comes up and people are like 'I'll leave the country if so-and-so wins'?”

“Not really.”

“Oh, right, you don't have elections.”

“We elect mayors.”

“Anyway, my moms made good on their threat, and a few months later, here we were.”

“D-do you like it here?”

“Yeah! It's easy to make friends, and school doesn't make me want to puke over here… You know, my first day of seventh grade back home, I was so nervous, I… never mind. I like it here, though!”

“So, uh…” There was one thing on Asriel's mind he wanted to ask Selim about. He thought about what little he remembered about being a talking flower. He remembered waking up in a dingy laboratory, wondering where his arms and legs were. Everything else was (from what he knew secondhand about his un-life, _thankfully)_ a distantly-remembered blur. He turned to face Selim. They were on his left, so he had to turn all the way to his left to get a good look at them. “D-do you miss being human at all? Like, your old body?”

“Yeah, I guess. Just a little. But…” Selim sighed, the faraway look in their eyes quickly turning to excitement. “Deer are the best! And now I am one! I guess that makes me the best!” Selim pulled out their phone. “Here, take a look at this!”

They shoved the phone in Asriel's face. There was a drawing of a purple anthropomorphic deer on it. It was a very wobbly drawing and looked as if it had been drawn with a mouse, but it was much better than anything Asriel could draw, so he was impressed.

“I came up with this character when I was thirteen,” Selim told Asriel.

“It, uh, kinda looks like you do now,” Asriel said, glancing back and forth between Selim and their drawing and noting the resemblance. “Only purple.”

“Yeah! Man, did I luck out!”

“I-isn't it kinda, I dunno, creepy hanging out with Cervus and seeing her in your old body, though?” Asriel had never gotten used to seeing Zero gallivanting around in Frisk's body. Then again, that had been a much different situation, because Zero was the most evil creature in the universe.

Selim looked scandalized. “Not at all!”

“I-it doesn't bother you at all? To be stuck in a body that isn't yours?”

Then they backtracked. “Maybe a little. It's a little hard to get used to. I guess it's more surprising than anything.” They blushed. “But C-Cervus, uh… Um, I never thought my old body would ever look good in a dress.”

Asriel couldn't help but feel that maybe Cervus had gotten the short end of this stick.

“Y-you'd look good in a dress. Uh, if you, er, wanted to wear one, that is…” Asriel felt himself floundering. He needed a distraction. “Hey, take a look at this!” He snapped his fingers and sparks flew, and with a crackling whoosh a ball of yellow-gold fire ignited in his palm.

Selim jumped back, brushing the ends of their scarf away.

“Hey, don't worry. It's magic fire!” Asriel clenched his fist and opened it again. The fire burned all the way to the tips of his short, filed-down claws, but underneath the flames his paw was completely fine. “I won't let it set you or your clothes on fire or anything! It's just warm!”

Selim slowly reached out, hand trembling. They smiled. “Wow!”

“You know, you can probably do magic too, Selim. Probably not, like, fire, or anything like that, but…”

“Prince Asriel! Prince Asriel!”

Asriel looked down at the bird-monster chirping at him. The monster's ice-flaked feathers were ruffled. “Good afternoon, Prince Asriel!”

Frisk piped up. _Oh, hey, I remember this guy! Asriel, tell him,_ “Ice _to meet you, Snowdrake!”_

“Do I have to?” Asriel muttered.

“Excuse me, my liege?”

“Uh, 'ice' to meet you, Snowdrake.”

Snowdrake's beak fell open in astonishment. “T-thank you, Prince Asriel…”

“So, uh, can I help you, Mr. Snowdrake?”

“Well, Prince Asriel, I'd like to start by apologizing for interrupting you and your girlfriend…”

Asriel blushed.

“I-I'm not a girl, actually,” Selim corrected.

Snowdrake bowed. “My apologies! I must have mistaken you for someone else.” The monster turned back to Asriel. “We have a patient down at the hospital. Some people dropped her off early in the morning and ran off. We couldn't identify her until we started stabilizing her… It's Captain Undyne, sir. She's demanding an audience with the prince. She says it's urgent.”

 _Undyne…_ The fire on Asriel's hand flickered out and died. _Undyne's back?_

“She only just woke up. The first words out of her mouth… Well, the first words I'd feel comfortable repeating in polite company… were, 'I want to see Prince Asriel'.”

“Can Selim come with us?”

“I don't see why not.” Snowdrake turned around. “Right this way!”

Asriel and Selim followed the bird downtown. Frisk was somewhat well acquainted with this monster, it seemed, and kept feeding Asriel things to ask him.

“So, Snowdrake, you work at the hospital now?”

“That's right, Prince Asriel!” The monster beamed. “It's great work!”

“Are you a nurse or something?” Selim asked.

“A comedian, actually. Helping patients heal with smiles, just like Patch Adams!”

_Tell him his dad must be proud of him._

“Wow, your dad must be proud of you, Snowdrake!”

“He is! I told him people would like my puns! It's great being so close to Mom again, too.”

“Your mom's in the hospital? Is she sick?”

 _Kind of. She's one of the… amalgamates Alphys accidentally created,_ Frisk explained.

“Well, uh, you remember those experiments Doctor Alphys got in trouble for a while back?”

Asriel nodded. He knew of Alphys' experiments very well, considering that in a roundabout way he was alive now because of them. “Has she been in the hospital since… since the, uh… Since Alphys went public with the amalgamates?”

“No, Mom was fine for a while. Just a few months ago, though, she started, uh… coming undone, I guess. Doctor Alphys was treating her, but now… Well, now it's just me.”

“Oh. I'm sorry, Snowdrake.”

“That's all right. Mom's gonna pull through. She's got determination!”

Snowdrake led Asriel and Selim into the hospital. Asriel recognized the room he'd been staying in just a few days ago. Only now there was a different occupant.

“Captain Undyne, are you still awake?” Snowdrake called into the room softly.

The captain lifted her head and cracked open her eye. Patches of her blue scales were still stained with greenish-gray body paint, and her red hair had been completely shaved off. It took a second for Asriel to recognize her.

“Undyne…?”

Undyne shot up as if spring-loaded. “Asriel!” She stuck out her right arm. “Put 'er there!”

Asriel looked down at Undyne's arm, which terminated in a heavily-bandaged stump halfway down her forearm. He blanched. Undyne followed his gaze, and her face fell. She slowly withdrew her arm. “Oops. Forgot I didn't have a hand anymore.” She gingerly rubbed the stump with her remaining hand. “Weird. I can still feel it.” Undyne pulled off her covers and sat on the edge of the hospital bed. Her left leg below the knee was gone.

“U-Undyne…” Asriel could feel a lump in his throat. “Wh—what happened to you?”

“Snowy, can you get me a cane or a crutch or something?” The bird monster dutifully brought a crutch over to her. She took it in her left hand, stuck the crutch underneath her armpit, and stood up, managing a weary but toothy grin. “I made some pretty big mistakes last night. But enough about me.” Her smile brightened. “Hey, who's your friend?”

“T-this is Selim. They're, uh, my…” Asriel wondered why the word that came next was suddenly so hard to say.

“W-we're dating, Captain Undyne,” said Selim.

Undyne gasped. “Really?” She hobbled over to Asriel. Asriel was struck with pangs of pity. The great and mighty Captain Undyne should not be hobbling. She patted him on the shoulder. “You've really grown up, Asriel!” She winked. Of course, because of her eyepatch, winking was indistinguishable from blinking, but Asriel had a feeling Undyne had meant to wink. “And I bet you parents are happy to know you'll have someone to share a throne with when they retire, eh?”

Asriel could feel himself turning beet red underneath his white fur. He stammered incoherently.

“Well, I've got to make my rounds,” Snowdrake announced, stepping out of the room. “Feel free to ring up a nurse if you need anything, Captain!”

“I'm so glad you're doing well!” Undyne told Asriel, who was still trying to figure out a response to the last thing she'd said. “At least one of us is having a good time. I had a pretty rough night last night.”

“You're not the only one,” Asriel muttered, but no one heard him. “Er, Undyne, didn't you have something important to talk to me about?”

Undyne sat back down on her bed, setting her crutch away. She motioned to the chairs on the other side of the room. “Yeah! I wanna know what you've been up to! I wanna know everything that's been going on since I've been gone! Selim, how'd you meet Asriel? Was it romantic? Did he sweep you off your feet?”

Selim took a seat next to Asriel. “I-I mean, kind of. He rescued my boss and me from some bad guys.”

Undyne rested her hand on her chin. “Wow. Asriel, you really know how to win someone's heart.”

Asriel pointed to Undyne's injuries. “Who did this to you, Undyne?”

Undyne ignored him. “So, Selim, what's it like dating a prince?”

“W-we've only been dating for, like, fifteen minutes!” Asriel replied.

Undyne pointed at him. “Shush. Asriel, don't talk over your datefriend like that. It's bad manners.” She turned back to Selim. “Are you from Snowdin, Selim? Knew a really nice deer family from that part of the kingdom back in the old days. I thought their kid was named, like, Tom Cervo or something…”

“Actually…” Selim explained to Undyne what had happened to them.

“Wow. And you and Cervus are both cool with it?”

Selim nodded. “Y-yeah, I guess. She's taking being a human pretty well, and… well, I mean, I guess being a deer is kind of a dream come true.” Selim wiggled their fingers. “I had this character I'd pretend to be online, and they were a deer-person, and well, anyway, I… uh, I like having these little hooves, too…”

“Yeah! They're really cute! Are you using hoof polish on them, or what?”

“W-well, uh, yeah, Cervus taught me how to do all that stuff. I think I'll try some colored polish next…”

“Ooh! Go for green! It'll bring out your eyes!”

There was a sharp knocking on the door. “Captain Undyne!” Papyrus' muffled voice came through from the other side. “I brought spaghetti!”

Asriel opened the door for Undyne. “H-how did you know she was…”

“A little birdie told me!” Papyrus pulled out a still-steaming pot of spaghetti that looked as if it had been set on fire at least twice. “Undyne, I made it just the way you like it: Crunchy on the outside, chewy on the inside!” He bowed in deference to Asriel. “You and your paramour are welcome to try some as well, Prince Asriel.”

Selim peered into the pot. “Is this meat sauce?”

“Yes! Full of all the necessary proteins!”

Selim drew back. “Sorry, I don't think my deer stomach can digest meat.”

“A-and I'm still full from lunch,” Asriel explained.

“Great, more for me!” Undyne reached out for the pot with both arms.

Papyrus stared at where Undyne's missing hand would have been in horror. “Captain Undyne! You've been amputated! Was it poison? Did a snake bite your hand?” He looked at the rest of Undyne. “And your foot? And your hair?”

“There was a snake involved, yes,” Undyne said. “But that's not how I lost my hand.” Her eye narrowed. “Wait a minute. Papyrus. _How did you know I was here?”_

“Like I said, I happened to overhear a little bird…”

“You were spying on us, weren't you?” Asriel asked. He felt obligated to be upset about that, but couldn't quite muster up the anger.

“Your mom and dad wanted you to spend time with your new friend, but thought it wasn't safe for you to go out without adult supervision. You know, after whatever happened last night.”

“What happened last night?” Undyne asked Asriel.

“I-I was…” Asriel could feel Zero's ice-cold hand around his wrist. The words caught in his throat. “I, I was attacked, by Ze—”

“Ze forces of evil!” Papyrus continued. “Yes, a team of ninjas—or, as you would call them, Undyne, _shinobi_ —ambushed the prince in the middle of the night! He fought bravely against their sinister ninjutsu, but there were too many of them!”

“How did you have time to make all that spaghetti, Mr. Papyrus?” Selim asked.

“I had already made it, and as soon as I heard about Undyne, I rushed back home, burned it exactly how Undyne liked it, and rushed over here!” Papyrus sat down on the bed next to Undyne, setting the pot full of burned pasta in his lap. He stuck a fork in the culinary catastrophe and twirled it around until he had captured a sizable mound of spaghetti. “Do not worry about your impairment, Undyne! For right now, I, the ever-helpful Papyrus, shall serve as your literal right hand!”

Undyne looked at Asriel, exasperated, but also very hungry. “Hey, kids, why don't you go off and have fun? Don't worry about me. Paps here will keep me company.”

Papyrus raised the mass of spaghetti in the air. “Here comes the Tsundereplane, Captain…”

Selim pulled out their phone. “Oh, crap, it's almost two. Sorry, Asriel, I've got work in fifteen minutes.”

That reminded Asriel. “I-I didn't know kids our age were allowed to work.”

“It's an extracurricular thing.”

Asriel turned around to say goodbye to Undyne on his way out. Undyne gave him a thumbs-up with her remaining hand and flashed a toothy grin.

Asriel and Selim made their way down the hall. “I-I could probably give you the rest of the day off, y'know. Executive order.”

Selim laughed. “I couldn't do that to Mr. Hamieh. He's an old family friend! I'd help him with his restaurant back in our old neighborhood, too.”

“Oh.” Asriel's spirits fell, but he understood. “W-well, uh, we can date again? If you still want to?”

“Yeah, sure!”

“How about… tomorrow?”

“I've got some relatives coming over for Christmas.” Selim sighed. It sounded like they didn't relish the occasion. “I dunno why they're even bothering, but…”

Asriel had forgotten that tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and was suddenly struck with the kind of mortal terror that could only come from not having gotten anybody presents yet. He tried to suppress the terror, putting his hands on his hips. “Don't you think they'd be impressed to find out you're dating royalty?”

“I dunno how they're gonna deal with me being covered in fur. And, uh, not a boy anymore.”

“Ugh, yeah. I don't know why humans still have to make such a big deal about that kind of stuff. Well, uh, if you have a hard time with your relatives… maybe you can bring your moms over and have Christmas dinner with my family.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, I'm sure Mom and Dad wouldn't mind. We always make tons of food…”

“Wow… That's really nice of you, Asriel!” And before Asriel could offer to escort them to the restaurant, Selim kissed him on the cheek, then turned around and bolted out of the hospital.

Asriel was frozen in place. They'd really _kissed_ him!

_Wow. Not bad for a first date._

Asriel couldn't move a muscle. _Why can't I move, Frisk?_

_Shock, I think._

_Is that normal?_

_If you're Hector Berlioz, yes._

Asriel finally fell to his knees. He had no idea who Hector Berlioz was.

_Remember? Mom had us learn all about famous composers to prepare us for that opera._

_Did you just call Mom “Mom”?_

_Um, I have to, uh… Let's talk later, Asriel._ And then Frisk went silent.

Asriel smiled. Over the past few days, Frisk had become an almost-constant presence in his head. It seemed the two of them were getting better at communicating, and Asriel was thankful for it.

“Congratulations, my prince!” Papyrus, having snuck up on Asriel from behind, clapped him on the shoulder, and the prince nearly had a heart attack. “And on the first date, too! Your parents will be so proud! Usually, the lovers kiss each other, though, don't they?”

Asriel spluttered incoherently. “Y-you aren't g-gonna tell my parents about this, are you?”

“Why not? Think of how happy they will be!”

Asriel babbled something about his privacy.

“Don't fret, Prince Asriel. I have nothing but the utmost respect for your privacy.”

“Thanks, Papyrus. Hey, can you just go and, like, tail Selim? Make sure they get to work safely?”

“Certainly! It's no skin off my backbone! I shall be their silent, invisible protector!” And Papyrus was off like a flash of red lightning.

Asriel left the hospital wondering what he was going to give to Selim for Christmas. And Papyrus. And Sans. And Undyne. And his parents.

He was in trouble.

He took off running for the nearest shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After what I did to Asriel I figured he could use a bit of a break.


	27. An Unexpected Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, the Dreemurr family has an awkward Christmas dinner.

Asriel woke up in a field of golden flowers. Soft, muted sunlight filtered down from a hole in the ceiling. A great stone door stood at the opposite side of the cavern. This was the ruins of the oldest settlement the monsters had made after their exile from the surface. Asriel still didn't remember much from his time as Flowey, but was well acquainted enough with the sight of the Ruins.

Asriel swore and looked down at himself, half-expecting to see nothing but a thin green stem where his body should have been. Instead, he saw himself. White fur, two arms, two legs. He breathed a sigh of relief.

There didn't seem to be anyone around. Asriel scanned the cavern. The flowers at his feet stood motionless. “Frisk?” he called out. “Are we dreaming? Are you here?”

“Asriel?”

Asriel whirled around at the source of the voice and found himself staring into a familiar face.

Well, half of a familiar face. The other half of the face was also one he recognized, but it was clearly a different face.

Frisk stood in front of him, wearing a mud-stained blue sweater, their face divided right down the middle. On the left side, their face was exactly as Asriel expected it to be; on the right, white fur had begun to cover their skin, and their ear had grown long and drooped down. Their eye had changed from brown to a vibrant gold. It wasn't quite Asriel's face, but it was clearly on its way toward becoming it.

“Frisk?”

Asriel reached out with his right hand, and Frisk's right arm rose up along with his. Their right arm was also covered in fur, and their hand had become a white paw completely identical to Asriel's, right down to the scar. The human half of their face registered only a little fear; the half that resembled Asriel's, however, was stricken with terror.

“What's happening to you?” Asriel found himself asking, and as the words left his mouth, Frisk repeated them in a voice that was not quite theirs, and not quite his. He took a step toward Frisk, and Frisk took a step toward him.

“A-are you okay?”

 _“A-are you okay?_ Asriel, wait, don't come any closer—”

But Asriel had already taken another step, and Frisk had taken another step as well. “What's going on?”

“Asriel, please, I— _What's going on?”_

Asriel grabbed them by the arm, and Frisk grabbed him by the arm.

“No, don't—” Frisk pleaded with him.

“Frisk…?”

“I don't know what's going to ha— _Frisk…?”_

And then the Frisk-Asriel amalgam began to shrink, their arm drooping, their face running down their body like water. Asriel stumbled backward, his heart pounding, as the melting, dripping, still vaguely-humanoid thing shambled toward him. _“F-Frisk? Frisk…? F…risk? Risk? Risk… Risk…”_

Asriel jolted awake. He was in his own bed. The sun had just begun to peek over the horizon, sending a yellow-orange shaft of light across his tousled blankets. The air was cold. It couldn't have been any later than six in the morning. Asriel sat up, afraid even to think.

_Asriel?_

Asriel made a concerted effort not to respond to Frisk's voice in his head, fearful that his nightmare could become reality.

_Asriel, it's okay. I'm okay. It was just a nightmare._

Asriel finally mustered the courage to respond. _Aren't we supposed to not get nightmares?_

_There isn't a dreamcatcher big enough for something like that. But don't worry. I'm not really turning into you. Although I can think of much worse things to turn into._

Asriel slid out of bed. _Oh, good. Let's go work out._

–

Asriel closed his eye and took a deep breath. The morning air outside was crisp, and the frost covering the dirt floor of the training grounds crunched beneath his boots. The wind carried the sound of a few lonesome birdcalls. He faced the stick-man he'd built for practice. The ramshackle mannequin hung from a T-shaped frame, swaying gently in the breeze. The burlap sack forming its head had an angry face drawn on it with black marker.

Asriel pictured Zero's face on top of it and felt adrenaline course through his body. He lashed out with his blade and severed the stick-man's head from its body. The sack flopped to the ground. It didn't make him feel as good as he thought it would.

“Hey, Asriel!”

The voice came from Asriel's left. It was Undyne's. She leaned on her crutch, her long trench coat flapping in the wind. “Keeping up your training without me? Nice!”

“Undyne! Y-you're out of the hospital already?”

“God, yes, I was so bored! They make you stay in bed all day, and the only food they give you is—”

“…Gross tapioca pudding?”

“Yeah! Anyway, I'm fine. Getting fitted for a peg leg and hook hand right after Christmas.”

“A peg leg?”

“And a hook hand. Gonna have to get myself one of those tricorn hats, too, with a skull and crossbones on it. Maybe embroider some nice gold epaulettes on this jacket, trade in my spears for a cutlass…”

Asriel looked at his mentor and teacher, still hardly able to convince himself that she really was standing just a few feet away from him. “You're really back?”

“Of course I am! You think I'd just—”

Asriel ran over to her and hugged the captain as hard as he could, burying his face in her thick jacket. Undyne struggled to keep her balance. “Whoa, hey, kid…”

_“I thought you were gone! W-when you didn't come back, I-I was so afraid something really bad had happened to you…”_

Undyne patted the prince on the back. “Well, As, you're not wrong…” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. _“On the bright side… those Misanthropy guys? I know where their secret base is… and all their plans!”_

“Y-you do?”

“Well, about eighty percent of them. Maybe. Just got out of a meeting with your mom and dad, going over everything Alphys and I were able to find out.” Undyne sighed. “Alphys… I kind of always imagined I'd spend my life protecting her… and she ends up saving my life this time.”

“What happened to you last night, Undyne?”

“Zero happened.”

Asriel felt his ear ringing. The painful mosquito-buzz, a memory of the gunshot that had gone off right next to his face, made him wince.

Undyne continued. “After Alphys had collected as much intel as she could on their R&D team, I tried to break her out. We ran into Zero and… Alphys made a deal with them. She stayed behind, and they let me go. But…” Undyne grinned and reached into her coat pocket, pulling out a small, slightly scuffed flash drive. “I had all the data she'd collected.”

“Zero… cut off your arm and leg? _How?”_

“You remember that weird 'gold' thing you can do?” Undyne asked.

“Yeah. I used it to turn Zero's reset power off.”

Undyne grimaced. “I… don't think you did exactly what you think you did. Because now Zero can do something even more dangerous. We thought they were just really fast at first, but it's more than that. Asriel, they can stop time.”

Asriel's legs grew weak. His mouth went dry. “I… I made Zero stronger…?” His knees hit the ground. “I… I'm so sorry…”

Undyne knelt down in front of him. “It's not your fault, Asriel. You don't really know exactly how your power works, do you?”

“I-I know what happens when I use it on myself…” Asriel had only begun to tap into his soul's “golden” ability when he'd been devising a way to counteract Undyne's and Papyrus' soul powers. Using it on Zero had been a desperate last resort. Neither he nor Frisk really had any idea what would happen if he altered someone else's soul like that.

“Well, we're going to find out exactly what it does, Asriel. _Because you're going to use it on me.”_ Undyne's eye burned with a fierceness Asriel had only seen once before—back when Zero had revealed themselves for the first time.

“Are you sure—”

“What do we have to lose?”

Asriel reached out with a trembling hand and laid it on Undyne's forehead, pressing against her cold, clammy scales. She bowed her head and closed her eye, and Asriel let his golden fire travel through his body, up his arm, and into Undyne's body. He could see her soul floating in an infinite abyss, shining a brilliant aquamarine. His golden fire cradled it, seeping into its shimmering surface, and faded away.

Undyne slowly cracked her eye open. “I feel like shit,” she croaked, weary and haggard lines traced across her face. Undyne looked about as good as she said she felt. She picked up her crutch and, with Asriel's help, stood back up.

“Y-you'll need my help to beat Misanthropy, won't you?”

Undyne mustered a weak laugh. “I'll have to run it past your parents. Can't see your mom agreeing.”

Undyne was right. Toriel was probably never going to sign off on something like that.

She patted Asriel on the shoulder. “But don't sweat it. We're gonna talk it over with the President. We're next door to the biggest, strongest army on the planet, you know. Misanthropy's child's play compared to the stuff they've dealt with.” She started to stagger away. “Now, I'm gonna lie down for a couple, uh, days or something.”

“Do you need help getting back to the hospital?” Asriel asked.

“Pfft. I'm not going back there. All I need is my own bed!” Undyne nearly tripped over an errant stick, and Asriel rushed over to steady her. “If you can walk me home, that'd be great, though,” she added humbly.

Asriel led Undyne out of the training grounds and across the courtyard, only to find Toriel standing in front of the charred remains of what once had been the little garden in the center.

“Captain Undyne!” She smiled. “I was just looking for you, and—” She noticed Asriel at her side and a brief, but noticeable glare of disapproval flashed across her face. “Asriel, were you going to help Undyne back to the hospital?”

Asriel nodded.

“Undyne, if you'd like to stay here, we do have several guest bedrooms. And of course, you know our Christmas dinner is tonight, and we'd be happy to have you over…”

Undyne bowed. “Thank you for the offer, m'lady, but…”

Asriel tugged on her sleeve. “C'mon, Undyne. You know Mom's food is better than any medicine.”

Undyne shrugged. “Well, all right. Haven't eaten real food in months, after all…”

“Asriel, please bring Undyne to one of the guest bedrooms and help her settle in. And after that, your father and I will need you in the kitchen.”

Asriel nodded.

“Also, that awful man is coming to dinner.”

Undyne suppressed a laugh. “You're gonna have to be more specific than that!”

Toriel sighed. “Senator Wretchidge. We invited him over for Christmas dinner.”

 _“What!?”_ Asriel's shout echoed in the courtyard. “Why?”

“The wretched Wretchidge is, unfortunately,” Toriel said with another despondent sigh, “likely to be his party's presidential candidate for our neighbor's election next year. And, also unfortunately, he has a good chance of _winning_ that election. How wonderful.”

“So?” Undyne asked.

“Wretchidge is—and I know this may come as a surprise—a moderate in his policies. In spite of his inflammatory language, I do believe he can still be shown the error of his ways.”

Asriel groaned. “But he's just a shi—uh, a _shhh_ uper big assh—uh…”

“Do please make sure to watch your language with our… 'friend'.” Toriel patted Asriel on the head. “My child, politics is all about pretending to be friends with people who hate you and people you hate, so that hopefully, you all might hate each other less.”

“I had to pretend to be friends with someone who hated me for two years, Mom.” Asriel shrugged. “It didn't work.”

Toriel's face fell. “Asriel, please, just… behave yourself tonight. And wear the good eyepatch, please.”

Asriel tapped on his eyepatch. “This _is_ the good eyepatch, Mom!” He turned to Undyne. “Right?”

Undyne nodded. “Can't go wrong with the classics. But your mom's right. Maybe you should go with something a little less… intimidating for tonight.” Toriel nodded in approval.

Asriel sighed. He couldn't win, could he?

–

Senator Wretchidge eyed the plate of food Toriel had set in front of him with a suspicious glare. If looks could kill, the senator was clearly trying to make sure the thickly-sliced turkey breast on his plate, drizzled with gravy and bordered by a mountain of mashed potatoes, was really and truly dead.

“It's not poisoned, Senator,” Asriel told him from the other side of the table.

Maybe now isn't the best time for quips, Frisk told him.

Undyne held up her fork, as if she were about to reach out across the table. “If you're worried about _that,_ I'd be happy to taste-test it for you.”

The senator rolled his eyes at Undyne. She was wearing what she referred to as “civvies”, an ensemble which included a leather jacket, jeans (with some holes around the knees) and fingerless gloves (or, now, a fingerless glove). Toriel and Asgore had offered to help her find a nice dress or a crisp military outfit to wear, but Undyne had insisted on making her own clothing decisions. Senator Wretchidge had been particularly scornful until the captain informed him that she was a wounded veteran, and that she hadn't fought for freedom to be told what to wear, and would have gone on longer and probably said some things to the man that couldn't be taken back if Asgore hadn't stepped in to distract her.

“That will not be… necessary, Captain Undyne.” The senator finally brought a forkful of mashed potato to his mouth, then halted. “This is human food, right?”

“Of course, Mr. Wretchidge.” Toriel finished pouring a glass of wine for the senator, then returned to her seat next to her husband. “You are the guest of honor. We have every desire to accommodate you properly.”

Senator Wretchidge took a bite, rolled the food around in his mouth, and swallowed. “Not bad.” He dug in. “So, you people, you're not Christians, right? So how do you celebrate Christmas?”

“A great deal of humans who are not Christians also celebrate Christmas, Senator,” Toriel explained with seemingly-infinite patience. “We celebrate it just as they do.”

“Don't you have any monster holidays?”

“We do! We have,” Asgore explained, “'Barrier Going Up Day',”

“A very somber day _of mourning ,”_ Toriel added.

“'Barrier Falling Down Day—that's a new one, and quite festive—”

“Halloween,” Wretchidge added with a mean-spirited laugh.

“We do celebrate Halloween, actually,” Undyne replied tersely.

“Yes, I suppose you would like it.” Wretchidge took a sip of the wine. “Very good choice of wine. What vintage is this?”

Asriel dug into his food as his parents talked to the senator about wine. Things seemed to be going relatively well. _Toriel's plan may actually work,_ Frisk mused in amazement.

And then Papyrus marched into the room. “Excuse me, Your Royal Highness?”

“Yes?” Toriel and Asgore answered in unison.

“We have another dinner guest. Were you expecting another guest?”

Asriel covertly pulled out his phone. He hadn't had any time to check it while helping prepare dinner, and he only just remembered that he had invited another guest for dinner…

He had one new message, from about fifteen minutes ago. From Selim. It read, had to get away from xmas dinner. ok if i come over, right? sry, xoxo, selim

Asriel had butterflies in his stomach. “A-actually, yes,” he announced, quickly shoving his phone away and standing up. “I invited a friend over for dinner. I totally forgot about it, I'm very sorry!”

“I'll bring them in!” Papyrus turned around and marched back out of the dining room, returning with a very cold and very nervous deer.

Selim was wearing one of the tackiest Christmas sweaters Asriel had ever seen. It was covered in reindeer and snowmen and seemed to have LED lights (mercifully, turned off) woven into it to make the reindeers' noses light up. But on them, it was beautiful. Asriel led them into the dining room, thankful there was room at the table for one more guest. “Mom, Dad, Undyne, Mr. Senator, this is my friend, S—”

“Sticks,” Selim finished. They'd gone stiff as a board, and couldn't take their eyes off the senator. Wretchidge stared at them bemusedly.

Asriel looked at them, confused. _“_ _Sticks?”_ he whispered.

“Sticks! Yes, that's my name. Sticks.” They managed an awkward bow in deference to the King and Queen. “It is an honor to meet you, King Asgore, Queen Toriel, Captain Undyne, and Senator…?”

“Wretchidge.”

“Wretchidge. I hope I'm not imposing or anything!”

Toriel pulled up a chair for Selim next to Asriel and set out a plate for them. “No trouble at all, S—Sticks?”

Selim nodded.

“We are happy to have you over, Sticks. Any friend of our son is always welcome here.”

“You'd best hope he doesn't start hanging with a bad crowd,” Senator Wretchidge replied. “If he hasn't already.” He made a point to stare at Undyne. Toriel ignored him and returned to her seat.

Asriel leaned over to Selim. _“Selim? Is something wrong?”_ He could tell that they seemed very uncomfortable in the senator's presence.

 _“That's_ _Senator Wretchidge,”_ they whispered back. _“What's he doing here?”_

 _“Mom calls it 'detente',”_ Asriel replied. _“More like_ 'detente - _tion'. So, what's with 'Sticks'?”_ Asriel figured it might be awkward explaining why a monster had a human-sounding name, but…

Selim fidgeted and hid their mouth behind their hoof. _“I—I don't want him to know I have an, um… 'ethnic' name.”_

Try as he might, Asriel still had a difficult time wrapping his head around humans' ability to be racist to each other. _“Mom says he's a moderate.”_

_“Compared to the other wackos? Yeah.”_

“So, how does a prince end up friends with someone named… 'Sticks'?” Wretchidge asked Asriel.

Asriel crossed his arms. “Because I don't judge people based on their names, Senator Wretchidge. And, uh, you'd better change your attitude toward Sticks here. You might be calling them Prince Sticks one day. Or Princess. Whichever they prefer.”

“Oh, good, another teenage transvestite,” Wretchidge muttered, rolling his eyes.

Even with his hearing slightly impaired, Asriel could still hear the senator's rude remark. “I heard that. Do you really want to insult my friend like that?” He rolled up his sleeves. “And after you've seen what I can do to—”

“Asriel, please do not challenge the senator to a fight,” Toriel said. “It's unbecoming.”

Asriel stood up, glaring daggers at the honored guest of the evening. “And calling my best friend a t—a tr—a really rude word, that's not 'unbecoming'?”

“I just remembered,” Papyrus announced. “I have bolognese overcooking back at home. I'd like to take my leave now, if that's all right…”

“Asriel, please, sit down,” Asgore told him. “I believe you owe the Senator here an apology.”

Asriel sat down, hiding his clenched fists under the table. “I'm sorry, Senator,” he spat. “I don't want to fight you.”

_Nice going, Asriel. Toriel's going to lock you in your room for a month._

_Maybe she can ground the Senator too,_ Asriel replied.

“You may go, Papyrus,” Toriel told the skeleton guard. “I hope the bolognese turns out well!” she said as Papyrus left.

“And Senator Wretchidge,” Asgore added, “I believe you also owe Prince Asriel's friend Sticks an apology.”

“I apologize for having… offended you, Sticks.” Wretchidge had as much difficulty forcing out his apology as Asriel had had with his own.

An awkward silence hung over the dining room as the dinner went on. Senator Wretchidge began to get drunk, and started to make more rude statements. Toriel and Asgore started to get drunk, and started to be a bit less forgiving.

After the Senator made a snide remark about Undyne's absent girlfriend, the Captain stood up. Asriel was afraid she was going to pulverize the man, but she merely tapped Asriel on the shoulder. “Excuse us. We need some fresh air.” She gestured to Selim, nearly losing her balance again, but Asriel propped her up. “Sticks, too.”

Undyne led Asriel and Selim to the courtyard, taking a seat on the garden bench. She made an exasperated gurgling noise in the back of her throat. “That guy was _elected?”_

Selim shrugged. “That's democracy.”

“I'm sorry,” Asriel said. “Our dinner's probably not that much better than the one you left.”

“My uncle brought venison.”

“Oh. Also, what's with 'Sticks'?”

“I panicked. I had, like, two seconds to think of a name!”

“You really think the guy would've been meaner to you if you'd told him your real name?” Undyne asked.

Selim took a deep breath. “We came here to get away from people like him.”

Asriel grabbed their hoof and held it in his paw. “It's all right, Selim. He can't hurt you here.”

“Yeah, he doesn't have any supporters here,” Undyne added, suppressing a yawn. “Here, he's just an ambassador. And a really bad one, too.”

Undyne looked absolutely exhausted, her eye bloodshot, her shoulders slumped. Asriel wondered if the technique he'd used on her had had more of an adverse effect than either of them had anticipated. “A-are you all right, Undyne?” he asked. “If you're running out of steam, we've got a guest bedroom…”

“I'm fine, Asriel.” Undyne picked something out from between her teeth with one of her claws. “Appreciate the concern, though.”

Suddenly, all of the lights in the castle flickered off, bathing the courtyard in darkness. Selim yelped and grabbed Asriel by the wrist. He lit a flame with a snap of his fingers, but it only cast a tiny bit of light, barely illuminating a few feet of the courtyard.

“Someone blow a fuse or something?” Undyne wondered aloud. “Well, who knows. Maybe not being able to see each other will make 'em get along better.”

I have a bad feeling about this, Asriel, Frisk told him.

Asriel let the flame flicker out and created a spear in its place, casting a much wider radius of brighter golden light around the courtyard. He had a bad feeling about this too.

There was a muffled sound of breaking glass from within the castle, and an indistinct shout. Asriel took off, but stopped in his tracks when a third sound came from the castle—the deafening, dreadful crack of a gunshot.

Upon hearing that sound, his mind had returned to the night he'd lost his eye. The assassin's arm around his chest, the still-hot metal barrel of the gun pressed against his head, the fire, the screams wrenching themselves from his throat, the awful sound and flash of light and then the darkness and the _silence—_

Asriel gripped his spear tighter. His fingers were the only part of his body he could will into motion. Black tendrils crawled into his field of vision, inching from the corners toward the center. He could feel something sick and evil crawling inside him, trying to force its way out. But he wasn't going to let himself become the God of Death again.

Undyne took a step toward him. “Hey, Asriel—”

Asriel threw out his hand. “Get back,” he growled.

_Howdy!_

It was a second voice in Asriel's head—very clearly not Frisk's.

_Boy, it sure looks like you could use my help right about now. So why are you refusing it?_

Flowey. The part of Asriel he'd tried so hard to forget.

_Flowey, where's Frisk? What did you do with them?_

_They're fine. I'm just_ louder _than them right now. Oh, what a darn shame. If only you were just a bit stronger, we could save our dear old ma and pa …_

_Why do you care? You never cared about anyone but yourself. Because you're a soulless abomination._

_Oh, words hurt, Asriel! I want what_ you _want. I'm a part of you. But_ _I'm the part of you that_ fights. _And_ wins. _You_ need _me. And right now, so do your parents…_

Asriel raised his right foot and put it down in front of him. After the first step, the next was easy. “Undyne. Selim. Find a safe place.”

Undyne stood up, holding onto Selim for extra support. “Asriel?”

Asriel bared his teeth, the light from his partisan blade casting ghoulish shadows across his face. “I'm going in there. And I'm going to find out whoever fired that shot… and make sure they never do it again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Absolute God of Hyperdeath"? Please, only a 12-year-old weeaboo would go around calling himself that.
> 
> A proper, mature, 15-year-old weeaboo has enough restraint to settle for "God of Death".


	28. Misanthropy Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Asriel gives into the darkness. Again.
> 
> Might be a little gruesome in places.

Asriel swung open the door to the foyer. The golden glow from his partisan cast long, soft shadows across the room. To his right, the living room. To his left, the dining room. Ahead of him, the stairs leading to the master bedroom, his bedroom, and two guest bedrooms. This made up the part of the castle which was “home” to him. But in the dark, and with Asriel's heart pounding in his chest as he scanned the room, it was foreboding and alien.

 _“Now see here,”_ a voice came from the dining hall, wavering, yet defiant. It was the senator's voice. _“I won't be intimidated by thugs like you…”_

Well, at least _he_ seemed fine. Asriel crept toward the dining room and found it to be very crowded. It was hard to tell in the dark, but there seemed to be at least six intruders in the room. Toriel and Asgore stood at the end of the table, their grim faces illuminated by blood-red and pale lavender flames they'd conjured in their open paws. But neither of them dared move an inch. The intruders formed a line across the other end of the table, their backs to Asriel. They seemed to all be holding guns. He was staring at the backs of a firing squad.

 _As long as you stay quiet,_ Flowey whispered in his head, _you could kill all of them in one strike._

Asriel gripped the partisan tighter.

“The senator is right. If you aim to frighten us, you've failed—”

The leader of the marauding intruders shot into the dark, loosing a single bark from their automatic rifle. Asriel could see a fragment of the muzzle flash lighting up the room behind the leader's silhouette. The gunshot echoed through the air, prematurely punctuating Asgore's sentence. Apparently, the bullet found its mark, because Senator Wretchidge screamed bloody murder, and, to his surprise, Asriel felt a pang of pity for the man.

“If either of you lift a finger to help him, I'll canonize the both of you,” the leader snarled at Toriel and Asgore. Asriel recognized their voice.

 _Because they'll be 'hole-y', get it?_ Flowey said. Asriel ignored him. That voice belonged to…

“Please, Formickey,” Asgore pleaded. “Does the oath you took mean nothing to you?”

 _I thought he was… dead,_ Asriel thought.

 _Oh, yes, and as you know, dead monsters_ never _come back to life._

 _“ Just kill them already, Mick,”_ one of the intruders adjacent to Formickey whispered.

He'd seen Formickey crumble into dust. He'd seen his soul shatter. The ant-monster should have been deader than dead.

_Whoopsy. Guess we'd better finish the job then, eh?_

_“_ _Quiet,”_ Formickey whispered to the other intruder. He made a menacing gesture with his rifle toward the king and queen, and then pointed it back at Senator Wretchidge. “Both of you, abdicate the throne, or I'll aim for his forehead next.”

Wretchidge moaned.

“I'm being _merciful_ here, y'know—”

The prince's body moved on its own. Asriel grabbed his partisan and ran the turncoat guard through, his fiery blade piercing his cloak and setting it ablaze. Formickey's gun clattered to the floor. The end of Asriel's blade poked out through his chest. Formickey scrabbled at it uselessly, loosing a strangled squawk before slumping over. Asriel yanked the blade out and let his limp and lifeless body crumble and collapse, leaving nothing but a dusty cloak on the floor. Smoke swirled up from where Asriel's blade had ignited the cloak's fabric.

The other five intruders whirled around to face Asriel, giving Toriel and Asgore the opportunity they needed to set the hems of all of their cloaks on fire. Their cloaks lapped up the flames like candle wicks, sending the intruders into a panic. Most of them dropped their weapons. Taking advantage of the confusion, Asriel socked one in the jaw, kneed another in the groin, and hit another in the throat with the butt of his partisan. One of the two remaining intruders swung their fists, but Asriel ducked below their flailing arms and slashed across their chest. The intruder dodged the attack, only for Asgore's mighty fist to strike their head from behind and knock them out. Asriel moved on to the last one. They'd held onto their rifle, and fired just a split second after Asriel had grabbed their arms and twisted them upwards.

A spray of bullets tore into the ceiling. Asriel squeezed his eye shut, but the muzzle flash still pierced his eyelids. The vibration from the shots traveled through the intruder's arms and up Asriel's. He could even feel it in his teeth. In less than two seconds, the rifle's magazine ran empty and the gun fell silent. But it had felt like an eternity, and afterward, Asriel's world was bathed in a cloying silence. Asriel wrenched the gun out of the guard's hands and slammed the stock into their face. The last intruder hit the ground, and Asriel spent the next few seconds blinking rapidly, clearing colored spots from his vision. His ears could hear nothing but a high-pitched whine.

Asgore squeezed Asriel in a tight embrace. “Thank you so much, Asriel!” he exclaimed. And then, in hushed tones, asked something unintelligible.

“What!?” Asriel shouted, barely able to hear himself over the ringing in his ears.

“Are you okay, Asriel?”

One of the intruders started to get up again. Asriel jabbed his blade into the floor just inches away from their face, and the intruder's body went limp, probably deciding that it was in their best interest to feign unconsciousness.

 _That was fun. Now finish the job,_ Flowey whispered in his ear. Asriel ignored the voice. He glanced at the pile of dust on the floor. There was no way around it; this time, it had been entirely his doing. Formickey was dead by his hand. He felt sick. Tainted. As if poison flowed through his veins.

“I would tell you not to encourage him,” Toriel told Asgore as she tended to the injuried senator, “but thank you all the same, Asriel, for rescuing us.” She placed an orb of lavender fire into the air to illuminate the room.

Wretchidge moaned. A rapidly growing patch of blood, black in the dim violet light, was spreading across his abdomen, clearly visible against his white shirt.

_Oh, dear. You know, Asriel, a gut shot is one of the slowest and most painful ways to die._

_Shut up, Flowey. I want Frisk back._

Flowey blew a raspberry at him. _Too bad._

Asriel examined one of the fallen bodies, wreathing his paw in golden fire to get a better look. As if Formickey's presence hadn't been enough, the intruders were all wearing the gray cloaks and black scarves Asriel had become accustomed to seeing on Misanthropy agents. The badges on each intruder's chest were a dead giveaway, as well. “These guys are Misanthropy. We need to get out of here.”

“And _you_ said they were no threat,” Wretchidge chastised Asgore.

Toriel helped the injured senator to his feet. Blood stained the white fur on her paw. Her magic hadn't been able to fully heal the wound, but at least she'd slowed the bleeding. “We must get you to a hospital, Senator.”

“Does your hospital even _treat_ humans?”

“Do not worry, Senator,” Asgore reassured him. “Monster medical science is the greatest in the world.”

“Asriel, run and take the senator to the hospital,” Toriel told him.

“But—”

“We will take care of things here,” Toriel reassured him. “Son, please. This was very noble of you, but children should not put themselves in danger for their parents. That is our job.” She handed Wretchidge off to him.

Asriel suppressed a groan and draped Wretchidge's arm over his shoulders. The senator was heavy and could just barely manage to walk on his own, wincing with every step as Asriel took a few trudging steps back toward the courtyard. He took one last cursory look back at the scene of the fight from just a few moments earlier, at the five prone bodies scattered across the floor.

_Five?_

The pile of dust and cloak marking where Formickey had been standing had vanished. Asriel turned around, and saw the insectoid monster's body congeal out of thin air between him and the exit. First his bulbous, segmented eyes, then his head, and then his body, from the inside out, starting with amorphous tissue and ending with a layer of chitinous armor and a billowing gray cloak. His long antennae materialized last.

Asriel lashed out, and Formickey vanished yet again, reappearing an instant later just out of range. He let the senator fall to the floor as he pressed onward.

“You're dead! Why aren't you dead!?” Asriel snarled as Formickey phased through yet another attack.

The ant-man grinned. “Nanomachines, son.” Formickey summoned a partisan of his own and parried Asriel's next blow, just to show him that he could, and phased behind Asriel, attacking from behind. “Every cell in my body can move on its own. I'm indestructible!”

 _Asriel, this is great!_ Flowey exclaimed. _We can just kill him over and over again!_

Asriel fell back. It seemed Formickey still had the abilities and techniques he'd gained by bodyhopping… which meant he could still use those laser skulls from the last time. And Asriel hadn't been able to discern any limitations on his bodyhopping ability… It would be hard to come up with a strategy if Asriel couldn't figure out Formickey's weak points. Combined with the monster's new ability, which turned him into a literal hive mind… this could be a challenge.

 _Weak points? Strategies? Those are for pacifists! If you want someone dead, all you have to do is…_ Asriel moved, again, without thinking, and cut through Formickey's chest. The monster didn't have time to disappear, and stumbled backward. Asriel grabbed him and held him against the wall, pinning the monster's arms to his back.

It seemed Formickey's ability to disappear wasn't automatic or tied to his reflexes. Catch him by surprise, and…

_Asriel! Just stab him already! Stop acting like Frisk!_

_As long as you're here, I have to._

“Surrender,” Asriel growled. He was talking as much to the Flowey inside himself as he was to Formickey.

Formickey's face suddenly appeared on the back of his head, and the rest of his body reversed itself similarly. He forced Asriel's arm back and pushed the prince away. “Not tonight. Not as long as your folks are still in charge.”

Asriel felt a pair of strong hands grab him by the arm. And then another pair on his other arm.

“Turn the prince around,” Formickey instructed Asriel's captors. “Let him see his parents die.”

_Asriel, let me handle this._

_No._

The intruders turned Asriel around. The other intruders had woken up, the remaining three holding Toriel and Asgore at gunpoint. Their faces were grave and solemn.

Asriel felt his paws go numb. Flowey—the part of him that was Flowey—was acting on its own.

 _Just stall for time. You can trust li'l ol' Flowey. They're_ my _folks, too, ya know._

“So, Formickey,” Asriel spat at his enemy, “when this is over, who's gonna be in charge? You?”

“Misanthropy will be taking over the kingdom. I believe the humans call it a 'military junta',” Formickey answered. He walked over to the senator's fallen body. The senator curled into a ball. Asriel had never seen anything quite so pathetic. “You'd know all about that, wouldn't you, senator?”

Wretchidge moaned again.

Formickey turned to Toriel and Asgore. “This guy here helped funnel money from his own taxpayers to help fund fascist takeovers of several foreign governments over the past decade. That's human nature for you.” He nudged Wretchidge with his foot. “Talk a big game about freedom all you like. But those scary foreigners are the last people you want running free, right?”

 _This is great,_ Flowey whispered. Asriel could imagine him sitting on his shoulder like the proverbial devil, whispering into his ear from under a cloak of yellow-gold petals. _This guy just loves the sound of his own voice! Keep him talking! I'm almost done._

“Maybe we can work out a deal,” Asriel bargained. “Y-you hate fascists. Mom and Dad hate fascists… I, uh, I think they're dicks, too…”

Formickey laughed. “I hate _humans,_ kid. Spend enough time around them… you'll see. They're all just as rotten on the inside as your senator friend here is on the outside. Some of them, more so.”

Asriel struggled involuntarily against his captors, an automatic reaction to the anger welling up inside him. “You don't know anything about humans! Have you met any of the ones who live here? They came here to get _away_ from people like him!” As the anger poured out of him like a long stream of vomit, Asriel could feel the numbness spreading up his arms. And he was starting not to care. “You vile… s-stupid… You're more evil than any human! _You've forgotten how to be a monster!”_

Formickey gestured to his compatriots. “Denim. Slender. Jerid. Execute the King and Queen, please.”

“Then _I'll_ be king!” Asriel bellowed as the intruders aimed their guns at his parents. _“And you're gonna have a ŗe͢a͡ll̷y ̶har̕d ͘t̕ime g̸͝e̢͝t̛͘t̶͏in͟͟g̵͘ ̕͞r͞i̧d͡ o̶̷f͟҉̵ ̴͘m̵̧̧̕͏e̡҉̴͟͢…̨͟͝҉ ”_

The feeling had returned to his arms. But not because Asriel had wrestled control from his floral id—but because he had once again given in. Asriel was the God of Death once again.

Asriel laughed. He'd subconsciously sent thin vines out of the tips of his fingers, letting them imperceptibly snake down the lengths of his captors and worm themselves into the wooden floorboards. While Formickey was talking, they'd created a network underneath the floorboards, and now Asriel was ready to strike.

As the three rifle-bearing intruders squeezed their fingers on their triggers, the floor burst open beneath their feet, and their shots went wild. Thorny vines strung up the intruders like inverted marionettes as their rifles fell from their hands and vanished into the darkness below.

The two intruders holding down Asriel had even less time to react. The vines cut across their throats and tightened, and the intruders gurgled a little before going limp and releasing their grip on the prince.

In the chaos, Toriel and Asgore took their injured dinner guest and ran, escaping into the depths of the castle. Toriel and Asriel's eyes met for one fleeting instant before she vanished into the darkness, the senator unceremoniously draped over her shoulder. There was a mix of fear, uncertainty, and grudging gratitude in her red eyes.

Asriel smirked.

Asriel stepped toward Formickey, stretching out his paws and letting the vines radiate from his fingertips like beams of light, stretched taut across the room. The tiny thorns running across their lengths glittered like diamonds in the dark. He released the vines from his fingers and let them fall slack, dropping the three airborne intruders into the hole he'd opened up beneath their feet.

Formickey took a step back. He was shaken. Asriel grinned. The insect had thought that their last fight had been the most Asriel had been capable of.

The God of Death was capable of so much more.

“A҉re̡ y͜ou̸r ͘ņano͞m̸a͟chines̶ af͞r̶a̧id of͠ ̛m̴e͠, ͏F̧orm̵i̷ck͘e̵y͡?̷” Asriel asked as he closed the distance between himself and Formickey. “I͜ mig̶ht a̕s̕ ͘we͝l͏l ͢a̕şk ̛i̶f a͜n ͏an̷t̕ co͏l͟o͢n̕y ̛is a̵fr͝a̵i̵d o̡f̸ a̷ m͜agnifyi͡ng ̢g͡lass҉.”

Formickey took another few steps back.

_That's right. Run away._

Then the floor exploded under Asriel's feet. Wings of light unfurled from his back, keeping him airborne long enough to move out of the way as thick beams of light seared through the darkness. Asriel looked down and saw a cluster of skulls floating in the basement, their gaping maws pointing straight up. Formickey had planted them in the basement. As the lasers dwindled away, the skulls winked out of existence, leaving Asriel and Formickey on two opposite ends of a gulf in the foyer.

Formickey wagged his finger. “I hope you've learned your lesson about standing on anthills, kid.”

The skulls appeared around Asriel, their eyes leering, and Asriel burned them away with a swipe of his hand. The glimmering flames, instead of the usual yellow-gold fire Asriel could conjure, shimmered with all the colors of the rainbow. Asriel leaped across the chasm, shooting vines forward from his fingertips and ensnaring Formickey. He reeled in the vines, pulling Formickey off his feet and into the air. The ant-monster dispersed into a cloud of smoke, and Asriel plunged right through it on his way down from the apex of his jump. The gritty particulates suspended in the air pelted Asriel as he flew past. Formickey reformed behind Asriel and conjured another skull right beneath his feet as an impromptu hoverboard.

Asriel hit the floor, the splintered and charred wood digging into his fur. The laser skull fired on him, and Asriel only just managed to roll out of the way. The wooden floorboards around the circumference of the beam burst into flames.

Formickey floated in the air, standing atop the skull he'd summoned. Five more skulls appeared around him, their cannon-like muzzles trained on Asriel.

Asriel jumped down into the basement as Formickey's lasers cut through the air and bored down on him. The television in the basement, along with the collection of game consoles and DVDs (most of them donated generously by Undyne and Alphys) went up in a shower of sparks. The carpet released plumes of acrid smoke as the lasers burned through it.

Asriel conjured a partisan and shot it at Formickey. While the spear pierced the skull he'd been standing on, destroying it, Formickey was able to disperse and reform on top of another skull. The laser barrage continued, a new skull forming after a few seconds to take the old one's place. No matter how many skulls he destroyed, new ones formed just out of reach.

The three intruders Asriel had thrown into the basement charged at him, guns drawn. Asriel grabbed the nearest one and threw them into the path of an incoming laser beam. They didn't even have time to shout out before they were incinerated, the black silhouette of their skeleton visible for a split second within the beam before crumbling away.

The two remaining intruders dropped their guns and turned back, but before they could run away, Asriel grabbed them both by the necks and whirled around, holding them in front of him as living shields. Vines snaked out from his fingers, sinking into the intruders' bodies, worming through their flesh. On a whim, he could tear their bodies apart from the inside.

The laser barrage stopped. Formickey smirked and crossed his arms. “Is this what you've sunk to, Prince Asriel?” he called out. “Living shields?”

Asriel's claws dug into the intruders' necks. They were more than living shields. He had a human soul, courtesy of Frisk, and that meant that these two Misanthropy agents had souls he could absorb in order to become even more powerful—powerful enough to kill Formickey, the rest of Misanthropy, even Zero themselves—and he would teach them all the meaning of fear.

A golden aura surrounded Asriel and his captives. He could feel their souls in their bodies, those little nexuses of determination pulsing and throbbing…

“O̧̕h?̵͘͢” Curious. These souls… did not feel like monster souls to Asriel. They were… like his.

Asriel grinned. He dropped the one captive, who collapsed to the singed floor, and reached his free hand around his other captive's scarf. He pulled up, taking off the scarf, and with it, pulling off the Misanthropy agent's hood, facemask, visor—everything Misanthropy agents used to hide their faces.

Underneath all of that was the face of a human male, probably in his late 30s, with salt-and-pepper hair cut short, and a square jaw.

“I͏n̸t͏ȩreşt͢in҉g c͟om͠pa͡n͘y ̴y̶o̴u k͘e̢e͘p,̡ ͢Mi̴ck,͠” Asriel told Formickey with a sardonic smile. “Ho͜w ͞m̴a͢n̢y̕ ͡of̷ y͢ou͝r c͢o̡m̡rade͞s͏ ̶are h͘u̷m̕an̕s i͠n ͢di͜sg̷ui̢s͘ȩ?͝”

The skulls vanished, and Formickey dropped to the floor. His chitinous hands trembled. “H-how…”

Asriel chuckled. With Formickey's ability to become incorporeal, he would have been a tough opponent to beat, even without any of Asriel's princely inhibitions holding him back. But now…

“D-Denim?” Formickey asked. “Why?”

Asriel shook the human. His limbs flopped like a ragdoll. “Yes,̵ ̧D̸enim. ̛Tell ̛hi̡m w̛h͝y.̢”

Denim swallowed hard. “I hate humans, and—”

Asriel smiled. _“He͟'̢s͞ ͟lyi̸ng…”_ he told Formickey in a sing-song voice.

“Liar!” Formickey created one of Asriel's partisan blades and pointed it at the human's bare throat. “How many of you are there?”

“Seventy—seventy percent of Misanthropy agents are humans.” Denim writhed uncomfortably, and Asriel tightened his grip.

 _“_ _Agent provocateurs.”_ Formickey's blade pressed into the human's adam's apple. A curl of smoke wafted up from where the fiery blade met the agent's stubbly throat.

“No… we've been here… since the beginning.”

“You betrayed us. You betrayed Zero.”

“No, no. Zero _recruited_ us.”

“You're… mercenaries? To pad out our ranks?” Formickey shook his head in disbelief. “But how—How could you betray your own kind?”

“H͞ow c͢oul̷d̵ _͟_ _yo̶u_ , ̧M̛i̴c҉k͘?” Asriel asked him.

“The whole point of Misanthropy is to replace the Dreemurr royal family with a government of extremists,” Denim explained, panic creeping into his voice despite his best efforts to stay calm. Asriel's vines were wrapping around his spinal column. Asriel imagined it must hurt. The human grimaced, tears welling in his eyes. His voice cracked. “Creating an openly hostile, nuclear-capable monster kingdom.”

“Yes,” Formickey replied, matter-of-factly. “So we can destroy humanity.”

“No,” Denim answered. “I-it's so that humanity… can have an excuse to destroy you.”

Formickey stumbled back. Asriel could see in his segmented eyes that his spirit was broken. The partisan fell from his hand and hit the carpet with a soft thud. “You betrayed Zero,” he repeated.

Asriel could finally tell what Zero's plan had been all along. Killing all humans and monsters was an impossible task for one person, time powers or no time powers. But if they could pit humans and monsters against each other, make them kill each other…

“Ḩe͡'̵s ̛b͢ȩȩn ͘fol͢l̴owin҉g͡ Ze̡r̷ơ's or͞d͘er͘s͢ ̡t͟o͘ ̶t͏he ̢ļet̵ţer͢,” Asriel told Formickey. “Th̷i̷s i̶s wha̕t t͝h͞ey ̴wanted̴ ̡a̶l҉l a̵long͞.̶”

Formickey screamed in anger, summoning a skull, and with a flash of light, incinerated the human Asriel had dropped. When the laser beam dwindled away to nothing, there was nothing remaining of the human but a wide arc of smoldering scorch marks on the floor.

Asriel tightened his grip on the human's neck, crushing Denim's spine. The human's eyes rolled up into his head and his body went slack, and Asriel let Denim's corpse fall to the ground.

“I'm a pawn,” Formickey muttered. “I'm… a patsy.” He fell to his knees. “You win, Asriel. You're the superior Revenant.”

Asriel walked toward Formickey, picking up the partisan he'd dropped. The monster was completely defeated. He wouldn't put up even the barest effort to defend himself now. This was such a delicious, sweet moment: Asriel could finally kill his enemy—for good. Asriel drew his arm back, and—

_No!_

He paused. It was Frisk's voice. There was something melodic about it—it cut through his ears like a crystal bell. Asriel found that his body had become frozen.

_Asriel, please. Don't you have enough blood on your hands?_

Asriel bared his fangs. He wanted to thrust his blade forward, wanted to kill—

_Formickey's a good guy who got caught up in a bad crowd. Now that he knows the truth… he can be our friend!_

Asriel growled.

 _Well, okay, he's still a huge jerk, but he's not our enemy!_ Frisk pleaded with him. _Please, Asriel… come back to your senses. You're strong enough to do that._

Formickey was bowing at his feet, a vassal before his lord. Perhaps he was begging Asriel for mercy, or perhaps he was prepared to die.

_I believe in you, Asriel. You can do the right thing._

Asriel remembered when Frisk had held Flowey's life in their hands. After everything he'd done, all the pain he'd caused, Frisk had still chosen to let him go. And Asriel was alive today only because of that single act of mercy.

Asriel let the partisan fall from his hands as the corruptive influence of his unrestrained id faded from his body. He looked around at the carnage—the carnage he'd helped cause—and fell to the floor on his hands and knees and vomited.

_Welcome back, Asriel._

Asriel shivered, collapsing onto the carpet, and felt a troubled and restless sleep take hold of him. The darkness engulfed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I believe that after you die, you can come back as whatever you want. I'll be a flower."
> 
> "How come?"
> 
> "Because... nobody ever suspects the flower..."
> 
> \--
> 
> "I didn't burn down the castle, it was the flower, I tell you, the flower!"
> 
> "He's crazy, boys. Get the tazer."


	29. Nightmare Arena

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Asriel faces his inner demons.

Asriel woke up in a field of golden flowers. Soft, muted sunlight filtered down from a hole in the ceiling. A great stone door stood at the opposite side of the cavern, the ancestral symbol of the Dreemurr dynasty carved on its surface worn and fading. These were the ruins of the oldest settlement the monsters had made after their exile from the surface. Vines choked the stone walls and columns. It was a place which had long ago burned itself into Asriel's memory.

There didn't seem to be anyone around. Asriel scanned the cavern. The flowers at his feet stood motionless. This was shaping up to be a very familiar dream.

“If I turn around,” Asriel wondered aloud, “Frisk, will I see you with half my face again?”

“No, but you'll see _me_ with _all of it,”_ a creature at Asriel's feet said, its voice saccharine and syrupy. Asriel turned around and looked down.

One golden flower stood just a bit taller than the others. An exact copy of Asriel's face poked out from it, wreathed in a mane of sunshine-gold petals. The uncovered left eye gazed emptily outward, its iris faded and pupil a milky, clouded white. “Howdy, Asriel. It's so nice to be face to face with my… better half.”

Flames leaped unbidden into Asriel's paws. “Where's Frisk, Flowey? What did you do to them?”

Flowey grinned coyly. Seeing his own face like that made Asriel's stomach twist. “Oh, Asriel. I didn't do anything to them. B̢ut ̶if͞ y͝ou̵ w͠ant ̸t҉o͢ ͡l̛et҉ t̷h̵e ̢nig̡hţma҉re͡s ̢in,̢ ̨you͞'̕ve͞ g͞o͝t t̷o take ͝d̴o̧w̸n t̕h͟e͘ d̶r͘ea̧m͏cąt͞c͝hęr…”

The flowers quivered, and the earth churned beneath Asriel's feet. Asriel took a step back as the ground quaked, and Flowey's head rose farther above his peers as several thin vines shot out of the soil and fixed themselves onto the cavern's ceiling. Underneath Flowey's head was not a stem but a white-furred neck, followed by a ragged purple cloak furnished with a tarnished collar and epaulettes. The copper filigree forming intricate patterns on the cloak had long since turned mint green from oxidation. The royal cloak was in tatters, and hung only two feet at its longest, tapering into thin and threadbare tendrils. A red pendant glittered around Flowey's neck. Underneath the cloak, only a skeletal spinal column remained, thin vines twisting up and around it just as they did around the great stone columns in the distance. And underneath the spinal column, which abruptly ended where the pelvis would have been, was nothing but thin air.

Flowey raised his arms and spread his emaciated talons wide, the vines above him raising him above Asriel's head like some ghastly stage effect. “No̸t qui̵te͟ ͞w̧hat I ha̡d͏ i̢n ͞m̕y g̴lory ̕days,̛ but̨ ̷oh, I͏ hav̨e ͠so ͝li̸tt̵le̴ ̸ţo wo̷rk̷ with he͞r̴e…̧”

Asriel could taste bile in the back of his mouth. Monsters didn't leave corpses long enough to rot—at most, a deceased monster's body could remain intact for about a week before turning to dust—but Asriel felt that he was indeed looking at what his corpse would have looked like, had it had ample time to decay.

The horrific death-god Flowey summoned a long staff and grasped it in both hands. At the head of the staff, a long and wickedly curved scythe blade sprang out, light sparkling off of its shining surface. “Oh,̸ A̧sr͘i͘el̡.̛ ̕I'm ̸s͢o ̢gl͟ad ̴y̕ou ̶sum͟mon̵e͟d m̶e,̨” Flowey said with a grin, a low and rumbling tone suffused through his voice. “Whe̷n ҉I k͝il̶l ̷y̕o͏u hȩr̸e̸, _I'̸ll_ b͠e in ͘con͝t̨r̢o͝l͜.̴ ̷A̡nd͏ I'̵l̸l͝ do eve̴r͏yt̶h͝iņg you d̶o͢n̴'t͝ ̛have t̛he ͟g̶uts to ̴d͜o…”

Flowey swung the scythe a few times like a golf club, its blade whistling through the air just over Asriel's head. He ducked instinctively, backing further away and summoning a partisan of his own to block Flowey's first real attack. Asriel held the partisan lengthwise as the blade hit it and held it as high up as he could. The scythe blade swung down, sparks flying where the blade met Asriel's fiery partisan, and came to a stop as the shaft impacted with Asriel's weapon, the tip of the blade barely an inch from the tip of Asriel's snout.

“You can't replace me!” Asriel growled as his arms shook. Flowey was exerting far more force than he'd anticipated, and keeping his elbows locked in place took all the prince's strength.

“Of ̶c͝ou͢rse ̢I can!̛” Flowey yanked the scythe back, trying to pull Asriel's partisan out of his grip. “I̛'m̡ _you!”_

“You're not me!” Asriel took one paw off of the shaft of his partisan and let the force of the scythe carry it in an arc. Flowey sailed backward, and Asriel conjured several more partisans in midair to fire at his enemy. “You're everything about me that I _hate!”_

With a twirl of the scythe, Flowey batted Asriel's projectiles out of the air and swung forward on the pendulum created by his vine supports. “O̕h,̢ m͢y͢ ̸mi҉stake!̕” He sailed over Asriel's head, dragging the scythe along the ground. Asriel dodged the blade, but felt its tip cut a shallow wound across his shin. “You _h̛a̛te_ bei̧ng̕ ab̸le t͡o͜ ͘prot͞ect҉ y̸o͜ur f̡r̶ie̶nds? Y͢o͟ur fam̧i͘ļy̵? I̛'m̨ sorry,̕ ͠I di̴d̡n'͞t ̢ķnow͝!͞”

A cold and clammy hand shot out of the soil and clutched Asriel's ankle, pulling him down to the ground. Flowey's scythe swung over his head. Asriel could hear the wind howl above him as more hands burst out of the ground, their fingers digging into his body. Pale blue skin, engorged veins choked with dead blood so dark blue it was almost black… The arms and hands of the living dead.

Chara had delighted in telling Asriel stories of zombies, back in the old days, when they had only been children. But no matter how macabre they'd made those stories in the dead of night, they didn't have the same impact when your species didn't leave corpses and the Royal Scientist was a skeleton. But now Asriel understood what made the living dead so frightening.

They wanted revenge.

The hands pulling him down were the hands of everyone who had died because of him. Asriel could feel himself sinking into the earth. It was cold enough to feel like fire against his fur. _“ I didn't kill anyone!”_ he heard himself scream, even though he knew it wasn't true.

As he sunk deeper and struggled against his captors, Asriel conjured several more partisans within the soil, a few feet away from him, and directed them upwards. They cut through the ground, tearing through the subterranean creatures, and shot into the air. Asriel dug himself out as the hands fell away from him and staggered onto solid ground, grasping two partisans as if they were ski poles and pulling himself forward.

One more hand grabbed at him, and Asriel felt a bolt of ice travel through his body, starting at his ankle where the icy hand had caught him, crossing his spine, and piercing his brain.

As Flowey circled overhead, one intact corpse climbed out from its shallow grave after Asriel. Their long gray cloak, although ragged and in tatters, covered their body, dragging along the ground. Their hood fell, revealing the pallid, emaciated face of a human about Asriel's age. Despite their young age, their long and wild brown hair was shot with silver. Their red eyes did not sparkle or shine, but glowed with a foggy and unearthly light, as if the light reflected off of them did not inhabit the same plane as the rest of them. They were hunched over in a primal, animalistic pose, their breathing heavy and ragged.

“Ch— _Zero ?”_

“I̛s͠n't͞ th͟is̨ s͢we͜ȩt?̕ ” Flowey cackled, striking at Asriel again as he flew by. “Įt͡'̧s͝ ̴a͟ ca̷va̡l҉c͠a͟de o҉f̴ ne͝uroses i͠n ͝her͠e! Ke̕ep w̡ai͡t̢ing͘ a̸nd͜ your͞ m̡om ҉might even ̴s͢h̴ow͟ up͟!͘”

While Asriel was fending off the blow from Flowey's scythe, Zero attacked. Asriel's body functioned on autopilot, immediately swinging around his partisan defensively. Two blades, protruding from Zero's overly-long sleeves, clashed with Asriel's. The blades were thin and nearly transparent, as if made from sheets of ice, but the clang of the blades striking each other and the tremors sent up Asriel's arm showed that they were far stronger than ice could ever be.

Zero's movements were agile, their strikes surgical in their precision. Asriel could barely keep up. One of the blades grazed Asriel's cheek, and behind the sting from the shallow cut, a cold numbness set in—a growing dead patch on Asriel's face.

 _“Why are you in my head!?”_ Asriel shouted.

If Flowey killed Asriel in this dream world, then Asriel would awaken as the same ruthless, sadistic creature, never to return to his senses. What would happen—who would take over—if Zero killed him in this nightmare arena? Was this phantom Zero a demon of his psyche, like Flowey, or a projection of the real Zero?

_“Say something, dammit!”_

Asriel felt a rush of wind from behind, and ducked, just barely managing to avoid five vines shot from Flowey's fingers. Zero was already gone, having leaped into the air and avoided the attack with far more ease. The tips of the vines embedded themselves in the great stone door in the distance, spreading deep cracks where they punctured the rocks. Had Asriel not sensed the attack, those vines, thin and wiry as they were, would have torn his guts out. In the distance, Flowey had used his other hand to embed more vines in the opposite wall of the cavern. Between the three sets of vine tethers, Flowey was perfectly anchored in the air.

Zero landed on one of the vines, balancing precariously on a single foot, imperceptibly bending the taut wire. They looked down at Asriel, their eerie phantom eyes smoldering.

Asriel swung his partisan blade upward, slicing through three of the five vine tethers. Tremors shook through the remaining vines, causing Zero to stumble, and the three cut vines, suddenly relieved of the incredible tension they'd been holding, whipped through the air. Asriel felt one end graze his face, cutting just above his right eyelid, and everything went dark as stinging blood poured from the cut. The writhing vines struck their remaining peers, and in less than a second, all of the vines had been broken.

Asriel rolled out of the way as the vines scored the ground. Flowey, deprived of one of his anchor points, swung upwards, colliding with the rocks overhead. Zero regained their composure and chased after Asriel, who managed to wipe the blood from his eye just in time to avoid their next attack.

Another set of vines shot across the cavern, but due to the concussion he'd sustained, Flowey's aim was much poorer. The shots went wild, but embedded themselves securely in the stone nonetheless. Flowey pulled out his vines from the opposite wall and ceiling and shot forward, conjuring his scythe in his now-free hand and swiping at Asriel. The prince barely managed to evade the attack, but the edge of the scythe impacted with the staff of Asriel's partisan and ripped it from his hands. The flaming blade went flying along with Flowey, and continued on past Asriel's dark half as Flowey shot more vines into the air and came to a gradual stop.

Zero lunged at Asriel again, but Asriel conjured seven partisans around himself, arranged into a formation to prevent any attacks from landing. The revenant child's attacks were relentless, though, and Asriel felt himself being driven back, closer to the wall of the cavern. It was difficult to independently control multiple partisans at once, and the speed and ferocity of Zero's attacks made it seem as though they had many more than two blades and two arms. Realizing how little mobility he had, Asriel wondered if he had created not a shield, but a cage around himself.

One attack broke through the formation. Asriel wreathed his paw in golden fire and reached out as a single icy blade swung toward him. It was a stroke of luck that he caught the blade, and even though it embedded itself in his palm, the fiery barrier Asriel had erected succeeded in blocking the blade and robbing it of its icy bite.

The second blade lunged forward, but Asriel had already directed his partisans at Zero. While making multiple objects move independently took a great deal of effort, Asriel could summon and control as many of his blades as he wanted if they were all directed at a single target. All seven partisans buried themselves up to their hilts in Zero's chest, and the phantom's eyes widened in surprise. Asriel shoved Zero away just as Flowey shot another volley of vines, and the deadly tethers ripped through their torso and suspended them in midair.

Flowey swung back around for another pass, and Asriel jabbed his partisan's blade into his doppelganger's chest. Flowey slowed to a halt, and Asriel's heels dug into the churned-up soil. Shock registered on Flowey's face, but only for an instant.

Asriel could feel something warm, wet, and sticky spreading down the front of his shirt. He looked down and saw a growing bloodstain marring his chest. And then the pain hit him, and he fell to his knees.

Flowey laughed at him. “W͏h͞a͢t ̨d͞i͘d̡ ҉yo͜u̵ ̢ _think_ I͢ ̸me̸ant͞ ҉w̧h̢e͠n͠ ҉I said ̵I̷ ͠w͝a̢s y͝ou, du͠m͝m̴y?” He hung in the air over Asriel, sliding his scythe just under Asriel's snout and lifting his head up. “D̵i͏d̷ y̸o͏u thi͡nk͞ ̸you co̡u̵l҉d̡ h̢urt͡ m͡ę?”

“But… you can hurt me…?” The blade drew a trickle of blood from Asriel's neck. “That's… not… fair…”

Asriel's breath grew short. He was losing too much blood already—at this rate, Flowey wouldn't even need to take his head to kill him. Black spots danced in front of his eye. Asriel conjured a weak, flickering fireball in his paw. He had to find some way to stop Flowey without physically harming him, but first, he had to stop his own bleeding…

“When I'm in control, I'll kill Misanthropy, and Zero, and the whole human race!” Flowey bellowed. “Everything that threatens my family… the people who are precious to me… will not be permitted to live!”

Asriel squinted and saw, hanging from Flowey's neck, a ruby red heart-shaped locket. A locket he hadn't worn in a long time.

–

_Toriel called out to the children to her as she took a seat in her cozy armchair. She held a silk pouch in her lap. “ Come here, children—Chara, don't touch those knitting needles—I have something for both of you.”_

_Asriel glanced at Chara as the human child sheepishly drew their hand back from Toriel's knitting needles. They gave Toriel their best and most disarming “who, me?” smile._

_Asriel sat down on the floor, feeling the warmth from the fireplace suffusing the right side of his body. Chara took a seat right next to him and blocked the heat. It looked like Toriel had something to give to the two of them. But what was the occasion? It wasn't either of their birthdays…_

_“Chara, darling,” Toriel asked, “do you know how long it has been since you arrived here?” She smiled. “Exactly one year ago today.”_

_Had it been so long ago? It felt as though it had only been a few short months since Asriel had found Chara's body lying among the flowers in the Ruins._

_She loosened the drawstrings on the silk bag and reached into it, pulling out two shining trinkets , rubies cut in the shape of hearts set into gold pendants . “I had these made for the both of you,” she said, handing one to Chara and then the other to Asriel. “To mark the special day when our family gained one more member.”_

_Chara didn't seem genuinely interested in the gift—Asriel knew they'd have preferred candy or better yet, chocolate—but the ruby locket caught the light from the fireplace and made it dance in front of Asriel's eyes. It was beautiful…_

–

Asriel drove his fist into his chest and felt the fire scorch him. It hurt more than when he'd done it to his paw. In shock, Flowey's grip on the scythe loosened, and as the cold steel fell away from Asriel's neck, he stumbled backward. With his last ounce of strength, he planted three partisans in the ground and shot them out like rockets. One caught the chain holding Flowey's locket and broke it, sending the locket falling to the ground, and the other two sliced through Flowey's vines, continuing onward and exploding against the ceiling. A shower of rubble pelted Asriel and Flowey alike as the vines all went slack and dropped Asriel's dark half to the ground.

Flowey scrabbled at the dirt, crawling with his arms and pulling himself toward the fallen locket. He seemed to have forgotten his battle with Asriel. Was the locket the source of his power?

Asriel bent over and picked up the locket, holding it far out of Flowey's reach. “You're an evil, soulless abomination,” Asriel hissed at him through gritted teeth. “I'll never let you take control of me. Never again—” The last words caught in his throat as he found himself staring at the locket he'd taken.

–

_Asriel hugged his knees to his chest. He could hardly breathe, shame forming a rock in his throat. He'd lost the locket. It had only taken a scant few weeks for him to get careless… the next thing he knew, the locket was tumbling down a crevasse in Waterfall, clinking on the water-slicked rocks until it vanished into the depths._

_The bedroom door opened with a squeal. Asriel looked up. Chara was scrabbling around in their satchel, looking for something. Asriel hiccuped, and Chara noticed him._

_“Azzy? You okay there?”_

_Asriel shook his head. “I-I lost the, the, my locket, and Mom's gonna ask where it is, and…”_

_“There, there, Azzy.” Chara patted him on the knee. “Just tell Mom you almost fell down a well or got swept up in a river or something, and you lost the locket.”_

_“B-but then she'll be mad at me for—”_

_“Come on, Azzy! That's not how it works! You tell your parents you almost died, and they'll be too glad you're alive to be mad at you for anything else!” Chara smiled coyly._

_“D-did you do that to your parents?”_

_Chara's smile shrunk. They turned away from Asriel for a moment. “Uh… no.” Chara hadn't told Asriel much about their life before they fell into the mountain, but it must have been hard. Asriel assumed Chara must not have gotten along with their parents very well._

_“A-anyway, I lost the locket…” Asriel sniffled. He felt as though his carelessness was, in some way, a betrayal of sorts. It had a photo of Chara in it, just as Chara's had a photo of Asriel. Chara wouldn't have been so careless with their locket._

_Chara returned to rummaging through their bag and pulled out a sheet of paper, then tore off a corner. “Don't let yourself get so worked up about it. Gold, rubies, that stuff's all just rocks. Humans make a big deal about them because they're idiots.”_

_“But…”_

_Chara had drawn something on the scrap of paper, and slipped it into their own locket. “Look, here. Have mine.” Chara shoved their locket into Asriel's fingers._

_“But it's yours—”_

_“If it'll make you stop crying, it's yours now, okay, little brother ?” Chara patted Asriel on the head and walked out of the room. Usually, Asriel corrected Chara when they called him that, since they were both the same age. But this time, Asriel let it slide. Besides, they kept acting like his older sibling anyway. For all he knew, maybe humans matured faster than monsters._

_Asriel held onto the locket for a while until his curiosity got the better of him. He opened up the locket, letting the scrap of paper fall away. He picked it up. Drawn on the ragged scrap were two smiling stick figures. One's head was a featureless circle. On the other figure, Chara had drawn on a pair of floppy ears and stubby horns. Asriel smiled, even though his heart ached._

“Hey, Mom!” _Chara called out from another part of the castle._ “Guess what? I almost died today…”

_Asriel heard Toriel's muffled scream echo through the castle as he clutched the locket close to his chest._

–

Asriel pried open the locket and let a yellowed scrap of paper flit aimlessly to the ground. He didn't need to pick up the paper to know what was on it. This was the locket Chara had given him. Chara. His first _real_ friend. And for so many years, his best friend.

Flowey's petals had wilted and browned, and the slack and lifeless vines trailing behind him had withered and dried up. He reached out for the locket, grasping at air with rotting claws, tears welling up in his eyes. Asriel could feel something wetting the right side of his face. Tears of his own.

Asriel let the locket fall to the ground. After all this—after Chara became Zero, after everything they had done to him and to his family—why did he still carry these feelings for them?

Flowey scrabbled for the locket and held it close to his chest. “You don't need me anymore,” he croaked. His tattered cloak lay flat on the ground, as if whatever had been beneath it had vanished. His arms still poked out from underneath, but they no longer seemed to be attached to anything. One of them crumbled into dust and blew away, and the other seemed not long for this world. He managed a weak laugh. “Oh, what a world…” he moaned.

Flowey cast an anguished glance at the locket, and looked up at Asriel. And Asriel saw himself, wracked with pain and guilt and sadness. Flowey wasn't just the part of Asriel that was cruel, or bloodthirsty, or ruthless. Above all, Asriel realized, Flowey was the part of Asriel who had never stopped seeing Chara as a part of the family.

Asriel took a trembling step toward his doppelganger, and knelt down, and did for his dark half what Frisk had done for him nearly three years ago. His paws shook. His knees were weak, and his throat was dry. Opening himself up to an enemy, someone who'd just tried to kill him, was almost more than he could bear. For the first time, Asriel understood just how brave Frisk had been, to do so much for him back then.

Asriel hugged him. The rest of Flowey's nightmarish body crumbled away, leaving only a frail flower in the prince's embrace.

“It's okay, Flowey,” he reassured the wilting flower. “Everything's going to be okay. I'm sorry about Chara. About Zero.”

Flowey wheezed. “Oh, you… insufferable little idiot,” the barely-living plant grumbled. “I can't believe I was beaten… by someone stupid enough… to think they're the same person…”

“T-they're not…?”

Flowey laughed. “Surely you've figured it out by now… Remember the door only Chara could see. Something snuck into our world that night… And for your sake, my better half… I hope you're strong enough to beat it without my help, you idiot…”

The flower went limp in his arms, and Asriel let it fall to the ground. It no longer had a face, or anything to distinguish it from any of the other flowers that had been uprooted and trampled in the battle.

Flowey was gone.

The muted light filtering down from the hole in the cavern faded, bathing the area in twilight. And with nothing beside the sound of softly rustling flowers to accompany its exit, the twilight faded into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Required background music: https://youtu.be/EDr_krEQNrU


	30. Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Asriel goes on a road trip.

Frisk held tightly onto Asriel's paw. Their skin was soft and warm. “Don't worry,” they told him. “I have an idea…”

Asriel's voice caught in his throat.

“You need a soul, right? Just any old soul, to keep yourself together? Everything that's 'you' is in your head, right?”

 _A soul…_ Was Frisk saying… they were going to take another monster's soul and give it to him? “Frisk… don't get anyone's dust on your hands for my sake…”

Frisk shook their head. “It's not what you think—no one has to die—I can just give you a little piece of mine, can't I? I've got a really specific piece in mind…”

 _Give me a piece of your soul? But…_ Human souls… Monsters… Were human and monster souls that compatible?

“But you could die…”

Frisk laid Asriel on his back and laid a hand on his heart. Asriel felt the grass against his fur. It tickled his ears. But the pit of dread in his stomach grew deeper. “Don't worry about me,” Frisk consoled him.

Asriel scrabbled with his paws, struggling in vain to tear their hand away. But he couldn't beat their determination. “Don't!” he snarled, tears streaming down his face. “I can't watch you die for me twice, Chara!”

It was too late.

Zero stood up, an ear-to-ear grin splitting their face. They gazed around the cavern, sniffing the fresh air, their red eyes gleaming. Their gaze fell to their outstretched hands as they slowly, experimentally wriggled their fingers. _“Yes…”_ they whispered. _“Yes…”_ They curled their hands into fists and raised them into the air, shaking them triumphantly. _“It worked!”_ they shouted. _“It actually worked!”_ They spread their arms as they did a little pirouette. _“I'm alive again!”_ Their long brown bangs bounced up and down. _“And Frisk is dead!”_

They grabbed Asriel's paws and lifted him up to his feet. Asriel stumbled back and fell back down onto the grass. The world around him felt more vivid, more solid, more real. Colors were brighter. Sounds and smells were sharper. Zero's laughter cut through him like a knife.

“Y-you killed… Frisk…”

Zero smiled. They had so many teeth. “Yes, Azzy. Just like you killed Chara. Now there is only Zero.” They put their fingers to their lips. _“But now I've said too much,”_ they giggled.

Asriel stood up, panting. He felt weak. Dizzy. The cavern was too bright, too sharp, there was too much, and this—horrible creature—was laughing, it was ringing in his ears, everything hurt—

 _“Y-you… W-what d-did y… Y…”_ Asriel stammered. The words caught in his throat. Something thick, heavy, and wet was filling up his mouth. He was going to choke. Asriel doubled over. His mouth gaped open and something poured out of it onto the grass. It was thick, heavy, and white, like cream.

Asriel tried to speak and realized that what had just dripped out of his muzzle had once been his tongue. He looked up at Zero. The smile on their face was slowly shrinking. They'd gotten so much taller—no, Asriel was shrinking. He looked down. His feet were gone. His legs were joining them. White liquid spread across the grass. Little tips of green poked out at the edges. He was melting. _He was melting._

Zero's lips curled in disgust. “Look what you've done.” They sounded like a pet owner admonishing their dog for going to the bathroom on the carpet.

Asriel moaned. His fingers were going next. His whole body—what was left of it—felt soft and mushy. He remembered Alphys' laboratory. He was becoming like— _them. The amalgamates._

Zero shrugged. “Frisk was always so generous. Looks like they gave too much this time.”

Asriel tried to force out a word. Any word. Even “help” or “please”. Nothing came out. His lower jaw went next.

Zero patted him on the head. Their fingers came away with rapidly-liquefying tufts of Asriel's fur. They wiped it on their shorts. “Don't go anywhere,” they told Asriel as they wandered off in the direction of Toriel's home. “I'll go get you a bucket.”

The next time when Zero returned to that particular day, Asriel lasted just a little bit longer. So Zero tried again. And again. And again...

 –

Alphys sat in the cramped cockpit of the latest Peace Roller model—Mark Three. It was dark, the only light coming from the video screen and rows of blinking diagnostic lights. Gaster's redesign had foregone the fighter jet aesthetic and shielded the entire cockpit in thick armor plating. The pilot's only connection to the outside world was a system of cameras.

It was also very humid inside the cockpit. Alphys' sweat-soaked labcoat felt almost as heavy as she was.

The scientist scrolled through the source code for the Peace Roller's targeting system. Or, at least, what she thought was the targeting system. For a monster who seemed so organized, Gaster seemed to have a very difficult time documenting his code. There were some real oddities with the parts of the code Alphys had familiarized herself with so far. Why did the Peace Roller's flight pack need to produce so many orders of magnitude more than her original design? This thing could put a mountain into orbit.

She didn't want to ask Gaster much about the code. After her escape attempt, she didn't feel comfortable talking to him. Or being around him at all. He didn't seem comfortable around her either, but Alphys suspected the skeleton was more uncomfortable with the idea of Undyne coming back and putting another crack in his skull than he was with being around her.

Alphys could feel her spirits lift when she thought about the walloping Undyne had given Gaster. It sucked here, but Alphys could rest easy knowing that her girlfriend was alive and would move heaven and earth to get her back. She scratched at the heavy collar around her neck. According to her now-full-time bodyguard Snaca, it had a bomb in it. It didn't bother her much. It's not like they could actually afford to kill her, and besides, Undyne would be back for her within a day or two.

Alphys continued skimming through the code until she found something Gaster had ripped straight from the software Alphys had been writing for the Mark Two. The access keys. Right now, the Peace Roller's controls and weapons systems were only programmed to respond to Zero, as they'd always been. A tiny seed of a plan began to hatch in Alphys's spiky head. She tried to edit a line of the code and was greeted with an error message.

There was a rapping on the tiny access panel to the cockpit. Alphys had locked it from the inside. She unlocked the panel and cracked it open, letting a sliver of light from the hangar in.

Snaca peeked in, blocking the light. _“What are you doing in there?”_ she hissed.

“Installing air conditioning,” Alphys said.

“You know, I can set that bomb off whenever you like.”

“Oh yeah? W-well who's gonna clean up the cockpit if you do?”

Snaca rolled her eyes.

Alphys snapped her laptop shut and disconnected the cables leading to the Peace Roller's motherboard. “S-seriously though, I need you to let Gaster and Zero know I n-need… superuser access to the Peace Roller's computer systems so I can actually…” Alphys tried to think of a convincing lie. “…C-calibrate the weapons systems.”

“Why do you need to do that?”

“B-because Gaster's code is a mess, and I don't trust it to launch a nuke in the right place.”

“Gaster is a genius. You can trust his code,” Snaca snapped.

“E-even geniuses make mistakes,” Alphys retorted. The next words she said just slipped out of her stubby yellow snout before she could stop them. “A-after all, that's why I'm here, right?”

Snaca pried the access panel open wider and her snake arms slithered through, her fang-talons grasping Alphys by the shoulders and hauling her off the sweat-dampened seat.

 _“Listen here, Jurassic dork. Maybe you think you're a big shot here, or maybe you think your girlfriend'll be back tomorrow to break you out.”_ Spittle flew from Snaca's mouth, flecks landing on Alphys' labcoat and starting to fizz. _“Well guess what? If Undyne ever shows her ugly face around here again—”_ Snaca's talons dug into Alphys' armpits, and she felt blood being drawn— _“I'll pump her so full of poison her blood's gonna be as thick as tomato paste.”_

Snaca let go of Alphys, pulled her arms out of the cockpit, and slammed the access panel shut behind her. Alphys' butt hit the seat and the entire cockpit shuddered.

Gaster was certainly a genius in many fields, but mechanical engineering was not his specialty. The Peace Roller felt as though it had been cobbled together from duct tape and scrap metal. Alphys had built robots out of literal garbage that had felt more stable.

“Snakes are venomous, not poisonous,” Alphys weakly retorted as she was left alone in the dark, sauna-like cockpit.

 –

_“What do you mean, 'you threw them away'?”_

Asriel woke up yet again. There was a bright light shining in his eye. A soft, regular beeping sound emanated from some machine to his left. Something was pinching the inside of his elbow. Oh, great, the prince thought. I'm in a hospital again.

 _“We're just taking a blood sample, Your Highness,”_ a voice to his left told him. _“No need to be alarmed.”_

 _“They looked—Of_ course _they looked ugly on you!”_

Asriel's eye tried to focus on the blue blur on the other side of the room. The blur was currently yelling into something and leaning on a brown blur for support. Asriel felt his tensed-up muscles relax. At least Undyne and Selim were okay.

“Those weren't for _you,_ Mettaton, Alphys made those so that—” The blue blur that was Undyne became gradually more distinct. She made a frustrated gurgling noise in the back of her throat as her remaining hand squeezed her phone. “You threw them in the—Okay, Mettaton. I'm gonna come over in, like, an hour. When I get there, you're gonna have a right arm and a left leg waiting for me, or—”

Undyne rolled her eye. “Yes, you bucket of bolts, I am ordering you to go dumpster-diving. If I don't see you with those prosthesis, Alphys won't be around to fix your face! After I break it, that is!” Undyne hung up and shoved the phone into her pocket. There was no satisfying way to angrily hang up on a smartphone.

Asriel made an indistinct gurgle. His mouth tasted like cotton swabs dipped in vinegar, and his tongue felt like someone had poured salt all over it.

“Asriel! You're awake!” Selim noticed first.

Undyne's eye lit up. She turned to Selim. “Could you, uh, be a dear and…” The deer helped Undyne over to Asriel's bed.

“I thought you had crutches,” Asriel croaked.

“Things got pretty wild out there, and I kinda, uh…” Undyne looked even more exhausted than before, the deep racoon-rings under her eye digging into her cerulean scales. “Well. We're all okay, aren't we?”

“Mom and Dad—”

Undyne nodded. “They're all fine. Even that stupid senator.”

Asriel sat up. His head still ached, but he didn't feel injured. A glass of water cleared the awful feeling from his mouth and soothed his throat. “And I'm in here because…?”

“You told your dad you wanted some blood work done, didn't you?”

Asriel remembered that he had, after Zero had paid him a visit.

Undyne sighed. “Anyway, I've got to go. Take care, don't do anything I'd do.” Undyne made for the door.

“Prosthetics?” Asriel asked. “You said you were getting fitted for a peg leg.”

“I was joking.” Undyne stared off and sighed wistfully. “But Alphys figured something like this would happen…”

Asriel stood up. “I'll come with you.”

Undyne forced herself to look disapprovingly at Asriel. “Your parents probably won't like that.”

“They'll forgive me.” Asriel took Undyne's arm while Selim took the other one, and the three of them walked into the hallway.

“At least eat a cookie or something on your way out,” Undyne grumbled. “You just gave blood.”

Asriel cast a glance across Undyne to Selim. They looked frazzled, a faraway look in their emerald eyes. Their wide, cervine muzzle gaped slightly open.

“S-Selim? You okay?”

Selim snapped out of it. “Yeah, I'm, uh…” The regular patter of hooves on the linoleum floor came to a clattering halt, and Undyne's side jerked backward. “My moms are gonna kill me,” they moaned.

“You didn't tell them you snuck out?” Asriel asked before his brain could parse why that was a stupid question.

“I'll drop you off on my way to see Mettaton,” Undyne mumbled to Selim as her eyelid began to droop.

“Y-you're not gonna _drive_ like this are you?” Asriel asked her.

“Nah. Got a chauffeur.”

 –

Snaca knocked on the access panel again. Alphys cracked it open, and the snake-monster's slitted eyes glared at her from the other side.

“I got you the root password.”

Alphys tried not to cackle. She bit down gently on her tongue until the urge to laugh passed. “O-okay, uh… What is it?”

Snaca scowled. “Wait. How do I know you're not gonna sabotage anything?”

“Because you have a bomb strapped to my neck.”

Snaca pondered this.

“I-if it makes you feel better, I'll let you review my code before I compile it.” Alphys was hoping Snaca didn't know anything about programming.

“I'll have to let Dr. Gaster look it over.”

Alphys nodded. “Of course.”

Snaca gave her the password. It worked.

“I-I'll let you know when I'm finished, okay?” Alphys slid the access panel shut and locked it, eager to be away from her captor.

 –

Undyne led Asriel and Selim to the gleaming red convertible parked outside the hospital. Papyrus' hot rod. But standing next to the driver's seat, one crooked arm propped against the door, was not Papyrus, but a different member of the Royal Guard. Or, rather, a former member of the Guard.

 _“Formickey!?”_ Asriel snarled.

 _“T-the guy from the restaurant?”_ Selim's legs wobbled. They clung to Undyne for support, although with her one leg, there was little she could offer. Asriel felt both monsters' weights against his shoulder.

“We've got a truce,” Undyne explained.

“Why isn't Papyrus driving us?” Asriel asked Undyne. “This is his car. It's Papyrus' car. The car belongs to—”

“The esteemed Mr. Papyrus is currently interrogating my buddies,” Formickey told the prince as the man-sized ant assisted Undyne into the front passenger's side seat. “The ones you and Undyne didn't kill or give severe concussions to, that is…”

 _“Didn't he try to overthrow your…”_ Selim whispered to Asriel.

“He tried to kill them,” Asriel replied in terse, clipped tones. Was Undyne really trusting this traitor—and would-be assassin—with her own welfare like this?

 _I think we can trust him,_ Frisk chimed in.

“Shut up.”

Selim looked bewildered. “I-I'm sorry?”

“Not you.”

“Get in, Your Highness,” Formickey called out to Asriel.

“We'd rather walk.” Asriel crossed his arms and scowled.

“Come on, Asriel,” Undyne plied him. “I need you to sit in the back and put a spear through his head if he tries anything funny.”

Asriel looked Selim over. They were shivering, despite their tacky sweater. “Are you okay with sharing the car with this guy?”

“You've kicked his ass twice, right?”

Asriel nodded.

“I-I'm okay with it.”

Asriel and Selim took their places in the back and the car jolted to life, its engine purring with a satisfying and regular hum. “Where to, boss?” Formickey asked.

“Grasslands. Alphys' house,” Undyne muttered as she slumped into the passenger's seat. “But first…”

Asriel stared daggers at the back of Formickey's head. “I'm sure you're acquainted with Little Humantown.”

The wind began to rush over the windshield as Formickey drove onto the street. “Like the back of my hand, Little Prince.”

“I'm sure you do,” Asriel spat. “Terrorize any new families lately?”

Formickey peeked at the rear-view mirror. A festive Christmas tree-shaped air freshener dangled from it. “Hey, you there. The deer. We met at the restaurant, right?”

Asriel patted Selim on the shoulder for comfort. Just to let them know he was there for them. He could feel them trembling beneath his paw. Selim nodded.

“Yeah, I scrambled your brains!” Formickey chuckled. “How's that working out for you and the other one?”

“Uh…”

“I can switch you and your friend back, you know.”

“Actually… we're okay with it.”

Formickey cocked his head. “Really? If I were stuck in a human body like your friend is, well… I wouldn't be happy.”

“That's because you're a racist, Formickey,” Undyne droned. She seemed to be having a hard time staying awake.

“Having fun running around in that girl's body, eh, human? And how does she feel about that?”

“S-she's fine with it,” Selim stammered, “a-and she doesn't mind having my body either!”

Formickey shrugged. “Maybe she doesn't want to tell you. Some of us monsters can be so timid around humans… Prince Asriel, what do you think? Is it right for someone to just _run around_ in a body that isn't theirs?”

Asriel's muscles tensed like a coiled spring. Did Formickey know more than he let on about Zero? “You seem to do it a lot,” he growled.

The car slowed to a stop at a four-way intersection. “I don't _steal_ bodies, I _borrow_ them. Anyway, where's your friend's home?”

Asriel drew a blank. He didn't know where Selim lived. He turned to them. “Selim, where do you live?”

“I, I—um…” Selim looked down. “Y-you can just let me off h-here. I know the way back on my own.”

Asriel put an arm around Selim's dappled shoulders and pulled them close. “You don't have to worry about him knowing where you live, Selim.” Selim's body was pressed up right next to his. Asriel could hardly believe he had done that. “Formickey's going to spend the rest of his life in prison.”

“I thought I'd get a commuted sentence for my services here,” the ant-man said, his voice overlaid with a facetious mock-whining tone.

Undyne nodded. “You are. Instead of executing you for treason, we're putting you in jail for treason.”

“Do I get time off for good behavior?”

Undyne snorted. “Not with the way you're behaving.” A disgruntled driver behind Papyrus' hot rod honked its horn a few times before maneuvering around the car and speeding off into the night.

Selim gave Formickey their address and the car began to move again. Their home was only a few blocks away.

Asriel left the car with Selim, holding their hoof in his paw, and walked them over to the front door. A festive, verdant wreath hung on the wooden door. “The captain's exhausted,” Selim protested. “Shouldn't you keep an eye on… him?”

“No, I'm gonna be a responsible boyfriend,” Asriel said, “and bring you back to your parents myself.” He knocked on the door. It occurred to him that he'd never met either of Selim's mothers before. He took a deep breath and felt the air freeze halfway down his throat. Why was he suddenly so nervous?

The door opened, revealing a tall woman with short-cropped gray-brown hair and a taller, darker-skinned woman wearing a shawl. The taller woman grabbed Selim first and held her tight, wrenching them from Asriel's grip. She reminded Asriel of his mother.

Asriel cleared his throat. “I'm, uh, very sorry for all this,” he began as Selim's mothers buried them under an avalanche of hugs and kisses. “I-I invited Selim to the castle for dinner, I put them in harm's way, and I take full responsibility for…” He trailed off. They didn't seem to be listening to him.

The taller mother noticed him, detached herself from Selim, and vigorously shook his paw. “Thank you so much, Your Highness, for returning Selim to us safely.”

“Um, yeah, don't mention it…” She was still shaking his paw. “Um…” Was it rude to break off a handshake? He didn't want to leave Formickey alone with Undyne.

“Please, come inside,” Selim's taller mother told Asriel.

“A-actually, I really must be going—” Asriel heard the sudden squeal of tires, and whirled around to see Papyrus' hot rod peel down the road.

 _“This was my idea!”_ Undyne called out as the car disappeared behind a corner. Formickey and Undyne were gone.

Asriel Dreemurr: Responsible boyfriend. Irresponsible future leader.

Asriel pulled out his phone and dialed Papyrus. He picked up after the first ring, as he always did.

_“Prince Asriel! To what do I, your humble subject, owe the pleasure—”_

“Formickey just took off with Undyne in your car. He left me at my datefriend's house. Please pick me up so we can go after him.”

_“At once, my liege!”_

“Thanks, Papyrus.” Asriel ended the call, and suddenly felt everything in the world pressing down on him. Formickey and Undyne were gone; the latter was probably asleep, and the former probably had sinister intentions. Asriel himself was stranded. It was almost Christmas day, and all the gifts he'd put together for everyone were still in the castle, assuming Formickey hadn't incinerated his bedroom when he blew the roof off the castle.

Asriel sighed and felt himself deflate a little. “Excuse me, uh, Mrs. Selim's Mom? Can I step inside for a bit?”

 –

Gaster stood at the shadowy periphery of Zero's inner sanctum. A second machine had been added to the room, its steady whirring complimenting perfectly the regular push-pull action from the dialysis machine. The machine looked almost like a refrigerator had been turned on its back, white fog rolling across the floor from long, narrow vents on its sides. Zero stood at the foot of the new machine, still tethered to the old one. Their long hair had gone completely gray, and black veins had begun to snake across their skin.

Gaster coughed a bit, spattering black on his ivory bones. The same substance filling Zero's veins—the price they had both paid for traversing the darkness of eternity. He took his place next to Zero, towering over the human by his side.

The culmination of the Revenant project lay inside the white coffin, growing layer by microscopic layer. A new body, built entirely out of Gaster's nanomachines, designed to hold Zero's burgeoning life force and patterned after the only body capable of containing a soul as overwhelming in its power as Zero.

Zero—the demon that comes when its name is spoken, the voice behind the door, the savior of time's apostates. Gaster was proud to consider Zero an ally—had been ever since Zero had pulled him out of the abyss—and was even prouder to know that Zero sought so much from him. Zero deserved more than anyone a body great enough to contain their essence.

“Gaster,” Zero spoke. “Have Formickey brought back here.”

Zero's borrowed time had nearly come to its end. Inside the coffin, the body stirred.

A new age was about to begin: A scourge on humankind… _Fear in a handful of dust._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who still has this fic in their bookmarks, thank you, and I apologize for my approximately-two-month hiatus. My new position at my workplace has me writing a lot, which kind of saps my enthusiasm to write in my spare time. I will try to continue on a weekly schedule from here on out, but may miss a few weeks here and there.


	31. Magnetic Personality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Undyne fights a rock.

Mettaton answered the door. His metal carapace and perfectly-coiffed metal hair gleamed and glinted in the fluorescent light illuminating Alphys' porch. “Oh, thank goodness you're late,” he told Undyne. “I'd just finished polishing the garbage off my—”

“Where's the arm and leg, Mettaton?” Undyne asked.

Mettaton pointed at the ant-man accompanying Undyne. “Haven't I seen you on the news?”

“He's my driver. And my crutches,” Undyne explained. “Make with the arm and leg. Now.”

“What happened to your crutches?”

“I used them to beat a bunch of people up. Arm. Leg.” Undyne wiggled the fingers on her remaining hand. “Gimme.”

Mettaton moonwalked back into Alphys' house. “I'll be right back, Captain.”

“So… Doctor Alphys just made a bunch of prosthetic limbs for you?” Formickey asked Undyne. “Just in case?”

“She knows how dangerous my job is.”

Mettaton returned with a bundle of limbs and set them down on the porch at Undyne's foot, then took away the left arm and right leg. The limbs left were segmented, like the shingles on a roof. Bundles of red and green wires peeked out around the servos in the joints. The limbs were chunky and ramshackle, but they were an Alphys design. Undyne was sure they'd be more than sufficient. He looked Undyne up and down and stroked his chin with a gloved hand as he held the left leg up to Undyne's missing left leg.

“I never thought I'd say this,” Mettaton said as he looked over the leg, “but there's more leg here than we need.” The prosthetic went all the way up; Undyne was only missing her leg from the knee down.

“Just take off the top,” Undyne told him. The leg came apart just below the knee in Mettaton's hands. Mettaton did the same with the arm, removing half of the forearm and affixing it to Undyne's stump.

Undyne winced. The new arm and leg were starting to plant wires in her skin. They'd connect to her nervous system next. It would probably hurt.

“Now, as a former ghost and current robot, I know what it's like to deal with having new robot parts,” Mettaton told Undyne. “They take some getting used to at first…”

Undyne put her weight on her new foot. It held, but she couldn't move it. The prosthetic arm hung limp at her side. An electric tingle was already starting to run through the amputated stumps. It hurt, but she felt relived to at least be able to stand on her own again.

“Are they duds?” Formickey asked.

“It'll take some time for the nerves to sync up with the limbs,” Undyne told him. Alphys had told her about the weapons hidden within the limbs, the way they would (hopefully) connect to her nervous system, the strain they'd put on her body, and roughly how long they'd take to start working at full capacity.

“Your new limbs look great!” Mettaton beamed at her with a forty-watt smile. “But… I think one of your legs is still longer than the other.”

“Alphys can fix that when she gets back.” Undyne frowned. “I thought you said they looked ugly.”

“On _me,_ yes,” Mettaton explained. “But they do suit you.” He took a look at what remained of Undyne's hair and frowned. “Now, I do have a collection of wigs I can lend you…”

“Hair grows back. But thanks for offering.” Undyne was starting to feel revitalized. Life seemed to be slowly seeping into Alphys' emergency prosthetics. Maybe it was the limbs, maybe she was starting to feel the effects of Asriel's ability, or maybe both were kicking in, but she felt like she'd just injected caffeine directly into her bloodstream. She felt _alive._

Undyne took Formickey by the arm and limped back to the car. She got in the driver's seat, using her left hand to clench her right onto the steering wheel and positioning her new, not-yet-quite-mobile foot over the brakes pedal. Each movement sent a jolt through her body.

“Are you sure you're ready to drive?” Formickey asked.

Undyne turned the key and brought the engine to life. “I just have to be careful with the brakes.” The car lurched forward, and Undyne drove off, heading back up the mountain. By the time she reached Newest Home, the stiffness would vanish from the limbs.

–

Asriel took a seat on the floral-printed couch in the living room. It was a cozy home—a few rooms downstairs, a few rooms upstairs, and that was it. Much smaller than Asriel was accustomed to, and very cluttered. With the couch, recliner, coffee table, and television, there was very little floor space in the living room, and yet Selim's parents had found some way to fit a dazzlingly well-arrayed Christmas tree in the corner. The rude guests who had prompted Selim to leave were nowhere to be found. In the kitchen/dining room, leftover turkey was still cooling on five sets of plates. Selim's parents must have been worried sick about their whereabouts.

After Selim's parents finished alternating between scolding and fawning over their fawn child, they introduced themselves properly to Asriel. They'd adopted Selim about ten years ago. The shorter one was named Celia; the taller one was named Noha. They had met while working at the same university, Celia as a professor of religious studies, and Noha as the head of the university's anthropology department. Now they both taught at the kingdom's university (Home University, established three hundred years ago and relocated to the surface three years ago), which, although Asriel felt bad about admitting it, sounded a bit like a downgrade to him.

Noha shook Asriel's paw again. “It is an honor to have you in our home, Your Majesty.”

“Um, 'Asriel' is fine, really…”

“Your social standing aside,” Celia added, “we were so happy to see Selim making a friend outside of school.”

Selim's ears drooped. “Mom!”

“M-my mom said the same thing,” Asriel replied. “W-well, not the first part.”

“We heard something happened at the castle. Do you need somewhere to spend the night?” Noha asked.

“Would we be safe if you spend the night here?” Celia asked. Selim looked mortified at their mother's bluntness.

Asriel let out a nervous chuckle. “Y-yeah, of course. Uh, I'm really sorry about all this, anyway,” he quickly added. “I-I know you probably came here for a-a better life for you and Selim, a-and I'm sorry that all this is happening. I want this to be a safe place for you.”

The doorbell rang. Celia rose to get it, and Papyrus invited himself in. He held an overstuffed duffel bag in one hand. The lanky skeleton scanned the room. “You have a lovely home, Mrs…?”

“Rogers-el-Amine.”

Papyrus' sockets lit up. “Wow! You all have three last names?”

Noha raised her finger. “Two, actually.”

“That is amazing! How did you get two last names?” Papyrus asked.

“Marriage,” Celia told him. Papyrus nodded. He seemed impressed.

“Thanks for coming to get me, Papyrus.” Asriel stood up and addressed Selim's family. “It was really nice meeting you, but I have to leave. Princely business, really important.” He quickly threw in a “Happy Christmas” at the end.

“Actually, Prince Asriel, your mother has just given you permission to spend the night here.” Papyrus set the duffel bag on the carpet.

“B-but what about, and weren't we going to, a-and—”

Papyrus winked at Asriel and went on. “I packed this overnight bag just for you, Your Highness.” He leaned over to Celia. _“Just so you know, his bedtime was about an hour ago,”_ he whispered to her. Asriel could hear him very clearly, though, and assumed everyone else could.

Selim looked at their wristwatch. “You go to bed at _nine?”_ they whispered to Asriel.

Asriel's cheeks were burning. He tried to defend his honor. “I-I wake up at six…”

 –

The car's headlights lit the path through the dense mountain forest. Low-hanging tree branches zipped by in the dark, briefly illuminated for an instant before vanishing into the night. Undyne wondered if she'd passed the same spot where Misanthropy had ambushed and captured Alphys… and murdered two of her best subordinates. She'd played a role in that. And she'd have to answer for that sooner or later.

But not before Zero did.

Undyne blinked, and suddenly, a massive rock was in the middle of the road. A tower of salt-and-pepper-speckled salmon granite. She swerved and tried as best she could to slam on the brakes. Her foot was still slow. The tires squealed, the car lurched, and sparks flew from where the right side of the car scraped against the granite pillar. The rear-view mirror was torn off and flew into the shadows as the car turned 180 degrees and screeched to a halt.

Undyne's heart pounded. She blinked furiously. Where had that rock come from?

The pink granite mound turned fuzzy for a second as if Undyne were looking at it through Alphys' glasses, and suddenly, it had taken the shape of a man. Another one of Undyne's former subordinates.

“Talus.”

Talus nodded. “Hello, Undyne. Sorry about the car.” He took a step toward the car, cast in stark relief by its headlights. “I'm here for your prisoner.”

Formickey raised up his hands. All four of them. “Hold up. I'm not her prisoner. Long story.”

Talus raised a craggy eyebrow. “So you're defecting?”

Formickey shrugged. “Kinda. It's complicated. Look, Talus, we've all been tricked. Misanthropy—”

“I don't care,” Talus responded flatly, placing a hand on the convertible's hood and leaving a deep imprint. “Zero wants you brought back.”

“Sorry, your friend's got a sentence to serve.” Undyne put the car in drive and floored it. Talus held the car in place with his tremendous strength. The wheels spun aimlessly, spraying loose dirt and gravel into the air. Talus put more weight on the hood, lifting the back of the convertible off the ground, until he broke through and tore a hole through the engine.

He wrecked Papyrus' car. He wrecked _Papyrus'_ car. _He wrecked Papyrus' car!_

Undyne had already undone her seatbelt. The car's wheels came to a stop as the headlights flickered and died, and the back of the car slammed into the road. She was propelled into the air and used the momentum to haul herself over the windshield. Her right arm came down on Talus like a sledgehammer. “You wrecked Papyrus' car, asshole!”

Undyne knew Talus. He was strong, but slow, with slow reaction times. In addition, although he was fairly bookish, he didn't have a tactical bone in his body. He preferred to just smash things. Even given her handicap, Undyne was still faster and agiler.

Talus' nose crumbled when Undyne's metal fist hit it. He turned into smoke just a second too late to avoid her attack, and Undyne felt the nanoparticles comprising his body prickle against her scales as she tumbled toward the ground.

Undyne stopped just a few inches from the churned-up dirt road. Talus had already reformed, trapping her just below the waist in his midsection. He'd used his slow reaction time to lead Undyne into a trap.

Formickey had already scampered out of the wrecked car and summoned a trio of floating skulls at his side.

“Hey!” Undyne shouted. “I'm stuck here!”

Formickey fired one of the skull lasers, hitting Talus in the head. The rock glowed white-hot and started to liquefy before Talus could disperse himself and let go of Undyne.

Undyne dropped to the ground. Her foot felt a little crispy, but she was fine.

Talus reformed right in front of Formickey and swatted his skulls out of the air. Some of the nanoparticles making up Talus' body had been destroyed; Undyne noticed that one of his boulder-biceps was less defined than the other.

She grinned. So these Revenants could be hurt after all.

“Zero's been using us! Misanthropy is a black flag!” Formickey protested as Talus grabbed him. Formickey dispersed and reformed just out of reach. “Human governments are—” He dodged another swipe as Talus lumbered closer— “Conspiring against—”

Formickey pulled out some of Asriel's golden-orange partisans and stabbed them into Talus' chest. The stone man didn't give an inch. “Stop trying to capture me and listen to me, you big lug!”

Undyne tried to conjure a spear, but it wouldn't come. She hadn't been able to make any spears since that morning. Maybe her hunch about Asriel's powers had been wrong…

“Zero's will is true.” Talus pulled the spears out of his chest and tossed them aside.

“Yeah?” Formickey spread his arms wide. “We thought that about Asgore too, didn't we? Until he stabbed us in the back?”

Talus decked Formickey in the face before the ant-man could react. Formickey's head snapped back and he slumped to the ground.

There was a skull behind him. A glowing white fog poured from its gaping maw. It fired and caught Talus square in the chest.

Talus stumbled out of the way, and Undyne rolled out of the beam's destructive path. A tree went up in flames behind her. Molten rock dripped from a smooth, oblong crater on the stone-man's chest. Formickey scurried out of Talus' reach and dispersed. Talus dispersed along with him. Undyne could barely see the nanomachine clouds chasing each other in the flickering light cast by the flames behind her.

Undyne feared Formickey might try to escape both her and Talus. She pulled open a small hatch on her robotic hand's palm and opened up a panel on her inner forearm, revealing a hidden switch. One of Alphys' secret defensive measures had been primed. Undyne was hoping it might prove useful.

A black ball shot from Undyne's palm and exploded before it had traveled a few feet, filling the air with a flurry of metal particles. A chaff grenade, meant to jam radars. Maybe it could gum up the nanomachines.

Formickey reformed, his body looking oddly soft and blurry to Undyne. Was the chaff preventing his body from coming together? Talus reformed beside him, but couldn't quite make it. His giant stone body looked like television static. The nanomachines dispersed and the rock giant vanished.

Formickey stumbled toward Undyne. His features sharpened. “What was that?”

Undyne staggered over to him and grabbed him by the arm. Her stiff prosthetic fingers sank into his fuzzy, not-quite-there body. “Let's go. Talus is going to reform eventually.”

“It's like, have you ever gotten sand in your bathing suit area? Well, it's like that, but _everywhere.”_

Undyne pulled him along.

 _“Inside_ me.”

The little metal particles were still floating in the air. Undyne could feel them tingling against her scales.

“We're _walking_ up the mountain?”

“Can you turn into a car?” Undyne asked.

“Are you trying to be sarcastic?”

Undyne's spirits fell. “I thought maybe you could.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

Undyne could still feel the particles in the air. Shouldn't they have cleared out by now? “Formickey, how far can you scatter your nanomachines?”

“I can spread them about twenty—”

A hot wind blew past Undyne, and a pink-speckled stone sphere faded into existence around Formickey. Set into the sphere was a grinning face.

Formickey's arm dangled from the stone prison before the sphere swallowed up the arm and sealed shut. Talus grinned at Undyne as he began to roll up the mountain. “Thanks, Captain.”

Undyne was dumbfounded. How could he make something like that out of his body? Did he have that much control over his nanomachines?

Talus had changed a lot since Undyne had known him.

Undyne raised her metal hand as Talus walked up the mountain. Something was building up inside her, something white-hot and angry and bilious, her arm shook and her fingers trembled, there was a tingle in the air and suddenly—

Talus froze. His upraised right hand twisted backward. Undyne curled her fingers inward and pulled her arm in toward herself. It felt as though she were dragging an iron weight through molasses. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead. The sphere started to plow through the rocky soil as the stone-man slid backward.

Behind Undyne, Papyrus' wrecked car began to inch across the road toward her, groaning in protest. The metal particles in the air were flocking to Undyne, coating her scales.

_Magnetism._

Asriel's power really _had_ changed the nature of Undyne's soul.

Talus had incorporated just enough of the metal particles Undyne had filled the air with to render himself vulnerable to a strong magnetic force. She could hold him at bay—keep his nanomachines from dispersing—pull him toward her to deliver a knockout blow. She just had to keep pulling…

Undyne dropped to her knees. Her teeth ground against each other. She was still too weak… and Talus was too heavy. A scream tore through her throat as her arm fell to her side. Talus shot forward and vanished into the darkness.

Undyne buried her face in the dirt and felt the cold winter air sweep across her sweat-drenched scales. She hadn't had enough control over her new powers yet. After Asriel had changed Zero's soul, how long had it taken them to rein in their newfound temporal abilities?

Undyne picked herself up off the ground. She wasn't going to let Talus get away so easily.

She knew exactly where he was headed.

 –

Snaca rapped on the access panel again. Alphys kept it locked. _“Hey! Alphys! Open up!”_ She rapped harder. _“How's that code coming?”_

“Not quite there!” Alphys called out. “Gimme a bit!” That was a lie. She already had her modifications to the Peace Roller's access keys compiling and had spent the past half-hour playing Minesweeper.

Snaca banged on the access panel. The panel shuddered but held. _“Well, wrap it up! Zero needs you to see them!”_

“What, is their dialysis machine broken?” The dialysis machine was the only thing keeping Zero's stolen body alive as the black fluid in their bloodstream continued to build up. Alphys had never imagined that a human soul could produce enough DT—the substance she'd once injected into fallen monsters as part of her disastrous experiments on determination—to actually tear a human's body apart.

_“Their what?”_

“Anyway, uh…” Alphys checked her code. It had finished compiling. She'd finally managed to reset the access keys to their quote-unquote “factory defaults”. She started the boot sequence for the Peace Roller. “Uh, the access panel!” She made a show out of wiggling the panel a bit. “I-it's stuck! I'm trapped!”

 _“You're lying!”_ Snaca struggled with the access panel. _“You just don't want to leave, do you?”_

“Oh, yeah, I just love baking to death in this oven!” One of the monitors in the cockpit flickered on, the message onscreen prompting Alphys to register her thumbprint and retinas to the machine. “Go, uh, get a blowtorch or something! Cut me out of here!” She fumbled with her glasses, sliding them off her sweat-slicked snout, and peered into the retinal scanner. Her hands trembled as she pressed her thumb against the fingerprint reader.

The Peace Roller jolted to life, the heavy throbbing of its engines making everything in the cockpit shudder as the deadly machine lifted itself into the air. Alphys grinned. She had exclusive access to the most destructive weapon in the world. And no one could get at her… unless the damn thing shook itself to pieces.

 _“I'll blow your head off, you…”_ Snaca's voice became inaudible as the Peace Roller floated farther from the hangar floor.

Alphys turned the speakers on, courage surging through her veins. She was in charge here now. “You try it,” she told Snaca, “and you'll lose the only person here who can keep your leader alive!” Her voice echoed around the hangar.

Alphys had never felt more alive. She didn't have to wait for Undyne to rescue her. She was going to destroy Misanthropy and win her freedom, with her own power and her own invention!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nanomachines, son.


	32. Respite Refused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, a sleepover doesn't go as planned.

_One second ago, Chara had been showing Asriel the door. They'd closed their small hand along the door, wondering why Asriel couldn't see it like they could. The door swung open almost on its own accord. Chara wasn't sure if they'd stepped into the door or tripped and fallen into it._

_Chara turned back. There was no door leading out, even though there had definitely been a door leading in. “…Azzy?” They looked around. Everything was dark— felt darker than any ordinary darkness._

_But Chara could see their hands in front of them, and their dirty green sweater and their scuffed shoes below them, as if there was a spotlight behind them._

_Were they dead?_

_“No, not yet.”_

_The voice came from right in front of Chara, but echoed as if it had come a long distance. The child squinted, hoping they could discern something through the inky depths._

_“No, death comes later for you. But hoo boy, you are not gonna enjoy it.”_

_A pale hand slid out of the darkness, tendrils clinging to its skin before trailing away. More of a human body appeared. Pale skin, unkempt brown hair, glimmering red eyes. The human was only a little taller than Chara, and a bit thinner too, and wearing a violet sweater . But the other human looked almost exactly like…_

_Chara scratched at their nose. “Me?”_

_The other Chara smiled. “Just a few years older and wiser,” they drawled. They spoke like an adult._

_“So what, you're me from the future?”_

_The other Chara nodded. Their eyes seemed deeper than Chara's. It was as if they had their own gravitational pull._

_Chara crossed their arms. “Prove it.”_

_The other Chara shrugged. “Well, kiddo, I could tell you the exact time and date of your death, but you wouldn't know that until it happens.” They scratched at their nose, just as Chara had done. “Hmm. Let's see. You'd never tell him that, but Asriel is actually a few months older than you. You lied about your birthday after he told you his.”_

_Chara nodded. That was true._

_“You're jealous of Asriel. You'd rather he were the human… and you were the monster.”_

_“O-okay…”_

_The other Chara took a few steps toward them, wrapped their arms around them, and put their lips right up close to Chara's ear._

_“And the name your pitiful excuses for parents gave you is…”_

_The other Chara whispered the name and drew back. They smiled. “Now, how would I know that if I weren't you?”_

_Chara was shaken. This was insane—and incredible. Their eyes gleamed. “If you're me, and you're from the future… We can do anything!” Visions of untold riches sparkled before their eyes. Wealth, power, everything—everything could be theirs if they knew the future! “Uh, can I come back with a pen and paper?”_

_The other Chara shook their head. “Sorry. This is a one-night showing. But I can give you something to take with you outside…”_

_The other Chara's eyes bored into Chara's. Chara noticed that there wasn't even a single little red vein in the whites of their eyes, no reflected light in their pupils, and their red irises were flat, featureless hoops. They were like doll's eyes. And their skin was perfect, too—not a single hair, no moles or freckles, not even pores—and their rosy cheeks were just a bit too rosy. The other Chara's grin showed too many teeth, and Chara thought they could see teeth behind the teeth._

_The other Chara's nose brushed up against Chara's. They gently put their hand on Chara's chest, right over their heart._

_And then their hand shot straight through Chara's chest , forming a claw around their heart and pushing through the other side, and the other Chara's porcelain eyes turned jet-black, and a fire swept through Chara's tiny body._

_Chara screamed._

_When they came to, the glittering caves of Waterfall were spinning around their head. Asriel was carrying them. He kept telling them that everything was going to be okay._

_Everything wasn't going to be okay. Chara wanted to warn him, wanted to tell him that he was in danger, everyone was in danger. But the words wouldn't come out right. All they could say was that there was nothing behind that door._

_Asriel didn't understand. Asriel couldn't understand. Not “nothing”, but “Nothing”. Null. Zero._

_Zero._

_Chara lost consciousness. And Zero woke up._

–

The Peace Roller groaned as it lifted into the air. Alphys wasn't exactly reassured by the sounds it was making. She'd have to make the servo motors out of something sturdier, maybe install some inertial dampeners… Wait, what was she thinking? This thing should never have been built in the first place.

Alphys checked the weapons systems. Laser cannon batteries mounted on either side of the chassis, wedged between the fuselage and the engines. A machine gun turret slung underneath the cockpit. The railgun—finished, but not tested, and sitting motionlessly atop the cockpit. It was enough to defend herself with.

Snaca was still screaming at her from the floor of the hangar and waving around a little RC controller.

Just you try it, Alphys thought, I hope you enjoy having to explain to Zero how you blew up the only monster here who's worth a damn at medicine…

Alphys tested out the machine gun. No sound could penetrate the cockpit's thick shielding, but the cameras showed the bullets tear up the floor at Snaca's feet. The sweltering little oven Alphys was stuck in shook. Snaca scampered away from the crater in the hangar's floor. The floor of the hangar was a tightly-woven iron grating, the stony roots of the mountain visible beneath it.

The Peace Roller pitched to the side as Alphys tried to maneuver it toward the hangar door. It was sealed shut, and Alphys had no idea where it would bring her, but there wasn't any other way out. Alphys powered on the laser cannons and could feel the cockpit growing hotter. She'd have to fix that, too—No, she had to stop thinking like a mad scientist, for once in her life.

Alphys tapped on the dashboard impatiently. What kind of laser cannons were these, anyway? On the ground, Snaca was barking orders into a radio. Alphys swung the turret backwards and fired a few more rounds at Snaca's feet. It was actually a little fun to watch her scramble for cover. Turns out other monsters weren't very frightening when you were encased in an armored metal death machine and they weren't.

 _Lasers don't have any recoil, right?_ Alphys thought as the progress bars monitoring the laser cannons' readiness crept closer to 100%. Any heavier ordinance than the machine gun might tear the Peace Roller apart. It desperately needed better armor plating, and a more responsive control system, and air conditioning…

More Misanthropy troops were beginning to enter the hangar. One took their position in front of the others and aimed a long tube at the Peace Roller. The others behind them scurried out of the way. Suddenly, Alphys felt even less confident in her mobile weapon's armor.

The troop was fiddling with the grenade launcher. Alphys swung the gun turret in their direction and lined them in her sights. The Peace Roller lurched and wobbled in the air as Alphys took her hand off the flight stick. The controls were too sluggish, she couldn't mind the weapons and the flight system at the same time, the one with the grenade launcher was faster—

Alphys fired and the black-clad Misanthropy troop went down. The others scattered as shards of metal and plumes of pulverized rock flew into the air. Their shot went wide, and the rocket-propelled grenade exploded against the wall. It happened so instantly. RPGs always seemed to fly more slowly in the movies.

She turned her attention back to the controls just in time to prevent the Peace Roller from going into a nosedive. Alphys' labcoat must have been holding twice her weight in sweat by now. The laser cannons weren't ready yet. Another Misanthropy troop came with a grenade launcher…

Alphys couldn't take a deep enough breath. She could feel her lungs shriveling up. She fired a few short bursts behind her at her attackers, not even bothering to aim. She hoped it would scare them off. She turned her attention to the laser cannons and prepared to fire.

The entire weapon rattled and pitched downward. Alphys' forehead smacked against the flight stick and pushed it forward, driving the Peace Roller even further down. Warning klaxons filled the cockpit. Alphys was dazed, but still had enough of her wits about her to curse whoever invented the inverted control scheme. The floor was rushing toward her. She pulled back on the flight stick. The Peace Roller swung up, listing precariously to the right. Alphys glanced at the diagnostics panel. The left engine was shot. That was where she'd been hit.

Alphys grabbed the flight stick in one hand and the control pad for the machine gun turret in the other. She fired in short, indiscriminate bursts as she struggled to get the Peace Roller stabilized. Hot blood ran down her forehead, mixing with the sweat running into her eyes. Alphys pawed at the dashboard for the laser cannon controls.

She fired. The Peace Roller shot backward. Tremors shook the cockpit. Blazing white light poured from the right side of the weapon and burned a massive hole into the hangar bay doors. The Peace Roller swung upwards and the laser beam tore across the ceiling. Alphys grappled with the flight stick with both hands, fighting against the recoil. _“WHY IS THERE RECOIL?”_ she heard herself scream. A bright white discharge was pouring out of the ruined left side of the Peace Roller. It seemed the left batteries had been breached when the adjacent engine was destroyed. These weren't laser cannons at all, but rather some sort of pressurized… energy-fluid? Gaster must have called them lasers just as a shorthand.

Alphys shouted until her voice grew hoarse. The laser blasts slowed to a trickle as the batteries ran out of charge. Alphys managed to stabilize the Peace Roller, wiped the blood and sweat from her eyes, and case one last glance at the rear-view camera. The Misanthropy soldiers had retreated to the corner of the room. The pressurized energy-fluid that had spilled from the Peace Roller's ruined battery had melted a glowing river of molten rock and iron across the hangar. Snaca was vainly throwing daggers at the Peace Roller. The other troops were tending to the wounded.

Beyond the red-hot molten metal Alphys could see the warm glow of Hotland's magma lake. _Home_ _—_ but did it have to be so hot? Alphys limped the Peace Roller through the opening she'd made. The hangar was burrowed into the stone walls, the corridors linking to it snaking through the walls. Alphys could see long tunnels leading into the Core's nucleus off in the distance, obscured by the rippling heat-haze and magma plumes. The Core had grown substantially under Gaster's care, its modular construction growing inside Mount Ebott like a tumor and twisting its tendrils through the abandoned underground realm.

As the Peace Roller cleared the hole and wavered above the magma lake, Alphys saw Snaca frustratedly pull out a radio controller and remembered the collar around her neck. Of course. If Snaca couldn't capture her alive, detonating the bomb would be the only alternative. Alphys was too much of an asset to be allowed to escape so easily.

Alphys couldn't breathe. She couldn't force even the tiniest morsel of the hot, humid air filling the cockpit down her throat. Her claws scrabbled at the thick, leather collar around her neck. Resting right on the nape of her neck was a plastic case filled with just enough explosive material to pop her head right off her neck.

Alphys fired a long burst from the machine gun. If she could aim just close enough to Snaca, she could force her to disperse herself and drop the controller…

She gunned the Peace Roller's remaining engine. No time to look back. If she couldn't get Snaca to drop the controller, the least she could do was get as far out of her range as possible. If it were just a short-range radio signal, Alphys could—

The Peace Roller spiraled toward the lake of fire. Alphys wrenched the flight stick left, right, down, anything to avoid fiery death. The temperature in the cockpit rose and fell in short bursts.

She wasn't dead yet. That was good. Alive was good. She just had to fly past the Core, through New Home… There was a tunnel leading directly to the surface—right to Newest Home, actually. She could fit through it.

She hoped.

As Alphys closed in on the empty remains of New Home, the cavern began to shake.

–

“You can have the guest bedroom, sir,” Celia told Asriel.

“You can't give the guest bedroom to a prince,” Noha told her wife.

“I-it's fine, really, I—” Asriel started to protest. Why was he in this situation? Weren't there more pressing matters to attend to? Like the fate of the world?

“Prince Asriel, you can have our bed,” Noha said.

“I don't want your bed,” Asriel said.

“Asriel can have mine. I'll sleep on the floor,” Selim said.

“I'm not making you sleep on the floor,” he told them. “Just give me the guest bedroom.”

 _How does a house this small have three bedrooms?_ Frisk wondered inside Asriel's head.

It turned out the guest bedroom was a small cot in the attic. The highest point of the peaked ceiling brushed up against Asriel's still-nubby horns. A light bulb illuminated the room.

“Are you sure you want the guest bedroom, sir?” Celia asked Asriel.

_Actually, it looks pretty cozy._

“It's perfect,” Asriel told her. He set the duffel bag Papyrus had given him on the cot. “Thank you so much for your hospitality.” He bowed politely. “Sorry for any trouble I've caused you.”

Selim's mothers bowed in turn. “It's nothing, Your Highness.”

“A-and don't be too hard on Selim. T-things have been really rough for them, y'know? I-I mean, I guess you should ground them a bit—please don't tell them I said that—”

 _Oh no,_ Asriel thought. _I'm turning into my mother._

 _There are worse things to turn into,_ Frisk reassured him.

“I'd like to go to bed now,” Asriel concluded.

Asriel sank into the cot as Selim's parents departed down the attic's ladder one at a time. His eyelid felt so heavy. He was still wearing his tuxedo, which he still considered the worst outfit humans had ever invented, and it was still covered with dirt, dust, and a little bit of blood. His collar and cuffs were singed. He was not looking forward getting dragged to the tailor by his parents again.

Asriel rifled through the duffel bag Papyrus had left with him. In it was a set of pajamas, a change of clothes, a toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash, flossing sticks, teeth whitener—was Papyrus trying to tell him something about his oral hygiene?

The house trembled ever so slightly.

Asriel pulled the pajamas out of the duffel bag and noticed something at the bottom of the bag. A small envelope with the royal seal hastily applied to it. He slid his claw along the envelope, breaking the wax seal, and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. A message had been written in thick, bold pen-strokes. Asriel recognized his father's handwriting right away.

 _Dear Asriel,_ the letter began…

_Please stay with your friends' parents for the rest of the evening. Your mother, Captain Undyne, Lieutenant Papyrus, and I will be dealing with the Misanthropy problem ourselves. I know how passionately you feel about the crisis facing our world, but this is our problem to solve._

_I am proud to see you growing up to be such a strong warrior. You have grown up so much over just these past few months. You take after me in so many ways. I would be honored to fight alongside you, Asriel. But Misanthropy is a result of my many failures as a king. I know that you have suffered at Zero's hands. But your mother and I will not have you putting your life at risk to clean up our messes. That is not the kind of life any parent should give to their children._

_Your mother and I will be back for you in the morning. Please behave yourself at your friend Selim's house. (Your mother told me to add that.)_

_LOVE,_

_Asgore and Toriel XOXOXOXOXO_

_P.S. Papyrus wants to make his dessert pasta for Christmas breakfast this year. Please try to talk him out of it the next chance you get._

The ink on the thin paper was starting to run. Asriel looked up to find the leaks in the ceiling, then realized where the water was coming from.

His mouth had gone dry. The letter slipped from his hand and fluttered to the floor, caught in a hair-thin gap between two wooden floorboards. What were his parents thinking? They didn't know the extent of Zero's powers. They didn't even know who Zero was. They thought they'd be back in time for breakfast—they weren't going to come back. Not Mom or Dad, or Undyne, or Papyrus—Zero could easily kill them all.

Asriel had to leave. He couldn't let his parents go on this suicide mission. Why didn't they understand that only _he_ could stop Zero?

There was a knock on the little trapdoor leading to the attic.

 _“H-hello?”_ Asriel's voice cracked. He could barely manage a whisper.

 _“It's me, Asriel. Can I come up?”_ Selim asked.

“Sure.”

Selim popped out of the trapdoor and climbed into the attic. There wasn't much room for two, but Asriel could make a little extra space on the side of the cot for them. As soon as he sat back down on the mattress his eyelid started to sink.

“I-I hope I'm not bothering you.”

Asriel shook his head. He stifled a yawn. “No, not at all…”

“I'm, uh,” Selim took a deep breath. Their nostrils flared. “Tonight was scary.”

Asriel nodded. It had been scary. And the black pit forming in his stomach told him that the worst was still yet to come. “Are you okay, Selim?” he asked.

“No…”

“Neither am I,” Asriel admitted. “I killed two people,” he said. The words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them. He could have kept his paws clean if only he'd stayed in control.

“I'm, uh… sorry for their families?” Selim patted him gingerly on the shoulder, as if they weren't quite sure whether to comfort him or recoil from him.

“M-more people are gonna die because of me tonight.”

“Why?”

Asriel picked the note up off the floor and showed it to Selim. Their hooves trembled as they read the note. “Oh, god. B-but—how is it your fault?”

Asriel took a deep breath. And then he told Selim all about Zero.

He told them the story only he and Frisk had ever known. Everything he knew and remembered about Chara and their death. Becoming Flowey. Meeting Frisk. Zero. After he'd started, he couldn't stop. It all just came pouring out of him.

Selim listened to his whole story. They were quiet for a while.

“So Chara stole Frisk's body?”

He took a deep breath and collected himself. “Yep.”

Selim pressed their hooves to their forehead. “So, I guess… No, never mind. Sorry, your life is really screwed up.”

Asriel nodded. “Yeah.”

“So, Chara just… turned evil one day? But they're like… They were, I mean—You and them are in the history books, we had to study all that to get our citizenship, you were _friends_ , you gave people _hope_ —”

Asriel's fist clenched. _“That history was wrong—_ _”_ He cut himself short and took a deep breath. “I… didn't write those books.” Asriel's tongue felt heavy in his mouth. “Things were different in real life.”

“What were they really like, then?”

“They made me…” Asriel sighed. “Uncomfortable.” He rested his head in his paw. It felt heavy. “They called me names, talked me into doing things I didn't want to do… I thought it was just part of being a friend. I didn't have any other friends.”

“So… they were a jerk?”

“When they came back, they were different. When no one else was around, they'd talk to me about… killing. About how many monsters they'd killed, or how many times they'd killed Mom and Dad a-and the others in, in some alternate t-timeline—” He was losing his voice. _“I-I have to go, I have to s-stop them, I can't let it—can't let it happen again, I—”_ He couldn't breathe. He was gasping for air.

Selim grabbed him by the shoulders. _“Breathe, Asriel—Deep breaths—”_

 _“That's what I'm trying to do,”_ he gasped.

“W-what do I do?”

 _“ Just give me some space…”_ Selim took their hooves off of him. Asriel's breathing slowed. His heart stopped drumming against his ribcage and settled into a resting pace. He took a deep breath.

“Are you okay, Asriel?”

Asriel stood up. He put on the bravest and most resolute face he could muster. “I have to go.”

And then his legs gave way underneath him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters will probably be on a biweekly schedule from here on out.


	33. Calamity's Eve, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, things start to get wild.

The air was full of fluttering, bioluminescent blue petals. They fell like snowflakes from a thick carpet of flowers covering the stone above. Echo flowers. Stalactites poked through the flowery canopy, disrupting the pale, unearthly glow from the flowers above.

It was the cavern outside the Ruins. But also, it wasn't. Glowing petals blanketed the ground. The wind was howling in the distance and whistling through the tiny hole above.

Asriel scanned the cavern. His heart was pounding. No, this was wrong. He couldn't be here. He had to be awake, out there, and fighting. They'd die without him.

“Frisk?” He looked around. He couldn't be alone.

_Asriel._

“Frisk? Where are you?” The air was cold. “I can't be here!”

_I know._

“H-how do I wake up?” Asriel shivered. He brushed the petals out of his fur. Each one was as cold as ice.

_You're spent. You've got nothing left, Asriel._

“What do you mean, 'nothing'?”

_You crashed. You'll wake up in a few hours._

“No, Frisk—I have to wake up _now.”_ Asriel ran across the cavern, trying to pinpoint where Frisk's voice was coming from. But it echoed around the cavern too much. It could have been coming from any direction. “I-in a few hours—they'll all be dead, Frisk! You know that!”

_I know that. But you've pushed yourself too hard._

“I can't—” Asriel fell to his knees. “I can't be that weak.”

_I'm sorry._

“If we stay here, we'll never see Dad again.”

_I know._

“Or Undyne. Or Papyrus.”

_I know._

“Or Mom.”

Frisk was silent for a long time. _I'm sorry, Asriel._

“There has to be something we can do.”

Frisk appeared in front of Asriel, translucent and hazy, ghostlike. Asriel could see the petals falling behind them. They looked like a hologram. _You're not gonna like it._

“I don't like this.”

Frisk reached into their chest and pulled out a glittering red light. _I'll give you my soul._

“You already gave me your soul.”

 _The rest of it. The part I kept for myself._ Frisk held the red light toward Asriel.

“So you won't be around anymore?”

_Frisk shook their head._

“I can't do that to you. I need to get your body back—”

_It's gone, Asriel. Frisk is dead._

“No, you're alive.”

_We had a funeral._

“Alphys can put you in a robot body! You can have a new life—”

_It's useless, Asriel._

Asriel's fists clenched. “No, it's not! _There has to be a better way!”_

 _There isn't, Asriel. I…_ Frisk's “hologram” flickered. _Not all of me made it out of my body, Asriel._

“What?”

_Transferring my soul to your body should have destroyed my mind. It's what I was hoping would happen to Zero. Not even half of my “self” survived the trip, Asriel. That's why it took me years to build up enough strength to talk to you outside of your dreams._

“I'm… _imagining_ you?”

 _No. I'm real and I'm in your head. But… there's not enough left of me to survive outside of your mind._ Frisk offered the red orb to Asriel yet again.

“But you don't know that.”

_I'm certain of it. Look at me, Asriel._

Asriel looked at Frisk. They were blurry. He couldn't focus on the details of their face. If he squinted, he could see his own reflection just beneath the surface of their skin.

_Asriel… I'm already starting to fade away. Soon you'll only see and hear me in your dreams again. And then not even there._

“You're… going away?” Asriel could barely push the words out.

_I'll always be here, Asriel. I just can't maintain my individuality. There's so much of you, and just so little of me. Like a drop of soap in an Olympic swimming pool._

Frisk knelt down and held their soul right in front of Asriel's snout. _Take it, Asriel. If I let myself become a part of you right now… you'll have enough energy to wake up and stop Zero._

“B-but…” Asriel sniffled. “But I'll miss you.”

 _You'll do fine without me. You'll make new friends. You've got one already, haven't you?_ Frisk smiled. Or at least, Asriel thought they smiled. Their face was hard to make out. _By the way… Do you think Selim reminds you of me? Just a bit?_

“Wh—What?”

_We've got the same haircut. We're both orphans. We—I'm not making this weird, am I?_

Asriel suppressed a chuckle. “N-no, Frisk, you're not making this weird.” He sighed. “Are you sure there isn't a better way, Frisk?”

Frisk shook their head.

“I don't want to do this.”

_Look, Asriel. I've been a ghost since that day the Barrier came down. You can't bring a ghost back to life. You just have to help them move on._

“It's like you _want_ me to take this. To— _destroy_ you. I-is it really so bad? Living in my head?”

_My mind is going, Asriel. I can feel it. I'm losing bits of myself. Little by little. There's already things I can't remember about myself. Things I never told you. Things no one will ever know now. Are you going to want me to stay in your head a year from now, when I can barely remember my own name?_

_“It won't be like that!”_

Frisk grabbed Asriel by the shoulders. Asriel couldn't even feel them. They really were a ghost. _Asriel, take the damn soul!_ The soul floated motionlessly in the air, right under Asriel's nose.

 _“I don't want you to go!”_ Asriel sobbed. _“You don't deserve that!”_

Frisk patted him on the shoulder. _Let it go, Asriel. And… say 'hi' to Mom for me, when you see her._

–

Zero kicked their feet against the ivory coffin they sat atop. Despite the age of the body they inhabited, it was still surprising to Gaster to see such child-like behavior from his leader. Of course, Gaster had known them first as an ageless voice behind a door…

The door to the inner sanctum slid open, and the speckled-pink stone monster Talus walked through. He shrugged off his cloak, baring his granite chest before bowing before Zero. Gaster found it amusing that a former member of the Royal Guard would have simply replaced one king with another. But, he supposed, everyone had a different reason for committing treason, and they couldn't all have been as… _enlightened_ as his.

Gaster almost felt the need to scoff out loud at the idea of kings. He didn't have an issue with the amount of power kings had, necessarily, just the way they came to power. Asgore was only king because his father had been king. The way Gaster saw it, if you wanted to claim absolute power, you had to _earn_ it—not be simply born into it.

Oh, well—the reign of kings would be coming to an end. And very, very soon.

Talus rapped on his chest with his stony knuckles. “I brought Formickey with me.” Gaster could hear faint murmurs coming from beneath Talus' granite skin. “I do not think he is pleased to be here.” The door closed behind him.

Zero rubbed their eyes. The side of their hand came away thick with black grease. “Well then, it's a good thing he doesn't have a choice in the matter, isn't it? You can let him out now, Talus.” Zero smiled. “The room is hermetically sealed.”

Talus stepped forward, parting the nanomachines on his back and allowing Formickey's to pass through and reform.

Zero waved their hand dismissively. “Stand aside, Talus. You're blocking the view.”

Talus stepped to the side, across from Gaster. The two of them and Zero formed a triangle around Formickey.

Formickey had been crossing his arms, but he uncrossed three of them and presented Zero, Gaster, and Talus each with a chitinous middle finger.

Gaster rolled his eyes.

“How erudite,” Zero drawled.

“So,” Formickey said, re-crossing his arms, “When are you going to fill Talus and the rest of us loyal servants in on your real plan? I've been trying to tell Talus here this whole thing's been a false flag all along—” He gestured to Talus. “But you know him. Dumb as… well, a rock.”

“I take offense to that.”

“Shut up, Talus.”

Zero slid off of the coffin, their shoes vanishing into the thick, rolling mist spreading across the floor. “I'm hurt, Formickey.” They frowned and made the biggest sad-puppy-dog eyes they could muster. Since most of their eyes were jet-black, it did not have the intended effect. “I have been nothing but forthright in my intentions.” They walked toward Formickey. Formickey took a step back.

Zero laid a palm on Formickey's chest. “Heaven on Earth, Formickey,” they said. “ A world where humans and monsters need not co-exist. ”

“Right. They won't need to co-exist with us once they nuke us from orbit.” Formickey brushed Zero's hand away.

“Who has been filling your head with these crazy ideas?” Zero asked.

“The humans you had working with me.” Formickey turned to Talus. “Yeah. Tell some of your buddies to take off their masks. See how many of them really are what they say they are.”

Talus cocked his stone head.

“No, Talus, don't…” Zero protested. They trailed off and shrugged. “Whatever. Doctor Gaster, if you would be so kind…?”

Gaster stuck his hand into his suit's breast pocket and fumbled for a small, thumb-sized trigger. His thumb hovered over the button. It trembled a bit.

He pressed it and Talus' body instantly disintegrated, leaving nothing but a disheveled cone of gray dust on the floor. Gaster felt a pang of regret. It was always painful to destroy one's own creation.

Formickey mouthed a very lewd expletive.

“Gaster turned off his nanomachines,” Zero explained. “Yeah, you shouldn't be too hasty swapping out your body,” they gloated with a mischievous smile. “You don't know who else owns the key.”

“This isn't what I signed up for.”

“The Revolution didn't sign up for Robespierre, either.”

“Who?”

Zero shook their head. “Never mind. Anyway…” Their scarlet eyes bored into Formickey's big bug eyes. “I need you, Formickey, to put my mind in a new body.”

Formickey scoffed. “As if. Whatever you want from me—”

“'Want'? _'Want'?”_ Zero circled Formickey like a vulture circling a corpse. “I didn't say _'want'_ , Formickey. I said, 'I _need_ you.'”

“Tough.” Formickey summoned ten ghostly skulls, surrounding Zero on all sides. Gaster recognized his own Gaster Blasters and wondered where Formickey had gotten them. Only Gaster and his protege, Impact, had possessed those tools. Gaster wondered if Impact had passed them on to anybody else before his untimely demise.

The skulls all shattered into pieces like fine china, all at the exact same time, before they could fire. Zero had suddenly appeared right behind Formickey. Zero laid a hand on Formickey's left shoulder, and where their skin met the ant-monster's carapace, Formickey's shiny black exoskeleton turned dull, gray, and pebbly. Zero's slender hand sank into it.

Formickey wrenched his shoulder away from Zero and staggered forward. Their left arms dangled limply as dust sloughed off their shoulder.

The floor underneath Zero exploded in a shower of sparks and shrapnel and a torrent of white-hot fire shot out of it, pouring molten metal and yellow-white sparks from the ceiling. Formickey had hidden a Gaster Blaster in the floor—probably several, all in random places—to catch Zero unaware.

But the blast had missed its target. Zero's precision and speed with their time-stopping abilities was just too good. They were already standing in front of Formickey—and the floor exploded again, and again, and again. Gaster was impressed.

Zero stood on top of Formickey's right shoulder. “Did you remember to plant one beneath your feet?” they taunted the ant-man.

“Do I look stupid to you?” Formickey retorted. And then the floor exploded beneath his feet. Formickey dispersed into a cloud of dust, and Zero vanished. Gaster shook his head. Formickey had already missed.

Formickey reformed a meter away. Both of his left arms and one of his antennae were shorn off; some of his constituent nanomachines hadn't escaped the deadly laser beam in time.

Zero stood in front of Formickey, arms crossed. Formickey summoned a Gaster Blaster in front of himself, fired at Zero—

And suddenly, Formickey was in front of the beam's path, and Zero safely off to the side, and the beam left a deep divot and a scorch mark in the sealed door. Formickey had managed to turn to dust again, but a second too late. When he reformed, one other arm was missing, a chunk of his torso was gone, and his left leg had been blown off at the knee, leaking oily black fluid.

Gaster eyed the crater in the door with displeasure. If Formickey could break the seal, he could disperse and escape. Surely he knew that. Zero needed to stop toying with him and subdue the rogue agent quickly.

Formickey laid on his side on the ruined floor, his chitinous chest heaving. “Your new body…” He pointed a thumb over to the coffin behind him. “It's in there, right, Zero?”

Zero was swaying a bit. Gaster could see a river of black blood drip from their nostrils and flow across their lips. They were killing their body every time they used their powers. If they didn't get Formickey to start cooperating soon…

“No,” Zero lied.

A Gaster Blaster appeared behind the coffin, ready to fire. Gaster's grimace cut across his face. If the new body he'd created from the seventh Revenant was destroyed, it would take days to create a new one. And Zero didn't have days. They probably didn't have hours.

Formickey chuckled and stretched out his one remaining hand toward Zero. “Don't worry, Zero. You want a different body…? Well—it's used, and a bit banged up, but I think it suits you, Zero!” They burst out laughing, but the laughter soon caught in their throat.

Gaster smiled. Formickey, it seemed, had just learned the hard way that there were some minds you just shouldn't touch.

Formickey screamed. And screamed. And kept screaming. He clawed at his forehead with his chitinous claws, rending gouges in his exoskeleton, scratching the segments out of his bulbous eyes, tearing his one remaining antenna from his forehead. He writhed on the ground, screaming all the while, before finally going limp. Their voice died down.

Zero blinked, only a little bemused. They took a deep breath. “Are you ready to help me now, Formickey?” they asked.

Formickey nodded timidly, his whole body trembling.

Zero turned to Gaster. “I hope you found this all amusing, Doctor. I will be busy for a while now. Go make sure nothing goes wrong with the Core.”

Gaster nodded and left the room.

–

The hangar began to shake wildly. Snaca could see the massive hole Alphys had blown in it recede, leaving behind smooth, machine-tunneled rock. The tendrils the Core had sent through the Underground were retracting, she realized as the floor sloped beneath her feet. The Core was compressing itself.

Snaca and a few other troops scrabbled up the floor before the angle could become too severe. The injured ones couldn't make it. As the floor reached 45 degrees they rolled out of the ragged hole and fell into the lake of magma below. Snaca and a few others made it into the adjacent hall, which was now diamond-shaped. The walls quickly became the new floor and ceiling. Some of the troops were falling behind as they stumbled across the shifting terrain.

Snaca and the troops reached a turn in the corridor, which was now a sheer vertical drop. “Brace yourself!” she told the ones who'd managed to keep up. She wondered why the Core was retracting, and why no warning had been given. Surely Zero was aware that a shift this radical and sudden in the Core's architecture would result in collateral damage.

“Maybe the intercoms are down,” one troop suggested.

“Maybe we're under attack,” Snaca growled.

The floor jerked beneath their feet and spun downward. There were screams—none of which from Snaca, of course, because her nanomachines made her immune to death by falling. She reformed at the bottom of the trench. Several of the others weren't so lucky. Some were alive, but badly injured. Some had died on impact.

The Core was still shaking, but Snaca couldn't help but notice that one of the troops who had fallen to their death and landed spread-eagle on the floor (which had once been a wall) had lost their glasses. And Snaca could see from the eyeholes of their facemask that the deceased Misanthropy agent was a human.

_Disgusting._

Venom dripped involuntarily from the mouths on Snaca's hands. She understood exactly what was going on. Misanthropy had been infiltrated, compromised from the inside. Gaster and Zero must have decided to massively accelerate their timescale.

The corridors shook and continued to twist and writhe through the stone, and Snaca hurried along alone.

–

The floor trembled beneath Gaster's feet. The tremors meant the Core was slowly increasing its power output. Crossing the five percent barrier… It was incredible, although Gaster knew it was unsustainable.

Gaster reassured himself that everything was going to be all right. The Core didn't _need_ to be sustainable anymore. At full power, it might only last for three or four hours before going critical… but Gaster was absolutely certain that it would only take an hour, two at most, to erase all of humanity from the surface of the Earth.

Gaster marched down the hall, drawing closer to the control room for the Zero Engine. It wasn't just a source of energy. It was a weapon—a weapon that would bring peace to the world, and reduce it all down… to Zero. And in that brave new world, Zero and Gaster would be the new kings, not due to their birthrights, but due to their unparalleled strength and genius…

Gaster paused. He smelled smoke and fire. He cautiously turned the corner and saw himself face-to-face with the two monsters he hated more than anyone else in the world.

He saw Asgore Dreemurr, King of Monsters, holding his red trident in front of him. And beside the king, his wife. He could see his own reflection on the one part of the king's golden armor that was not covered in soot and dust. And he could see the reflection of the Gaster Blaster he'd immediately summoned to his side out of pure instinct, distorted by the curved armored plating, before it fired. A blinding light reflected off of the armor for a brief instant. And then there was no armor.

Less than a tenth of a second had passed between when Gaster saw Asgore and Toriel and when Gaster had fired. For less than a tenth of a second, the hallway was filled with a searing beam of white light.

Gaster hadn't even stopped walking. He had to make sure the Core transitioned properly into its true form without delay. He had no time to waste. It hadn't even registered in his head, even as his shoes kicked about the large pile of dust and ashes on the floor, that he had just killed his most hated enemy. He didn't even see Toriel's eyes follow him as he strode past her, or the aghast look on her face as she stood motionless in the hallway, frozen in shock.

Somebody else would finish her off.

He just kept walking, and turned another corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nfzq8LjXsGU


	34. Calamity's Eve, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Papyrus gets some new digs.

The corridors trembled again. The lights flickered. Undyne pried open a sliding door and was met with a vast and empty elevator shaft. She let go of the doors and they snapped shut again a hair away from her face. She didn't flinch.

“I thought you knew the layout of their base,” Papyrus said. From anybody else, it might have sounded sarcastic or petulant. From Papyrus, it was an honest statement.

“The whole place is modular,” Undyne said. “They change the layout every week.” She led Papyrus down another corridor. They'd been lucky in their infiltration so far; none of the Misanthropy troops they'd encountered had posed any major threat. The hard part was navigating the layout.

“That sounds incredibly confusing,” Papyrus said.

“Oh, yeah. We got the floor plans emailed to us every week.”

A Misanthropy troop turned the corner and ran into the two invaders. They froze upon seeing Undyne and Papyrus, just for a second, and it was all the time the two of them needed. Over the past hour, Undyne had become more aware of her new magnetic abilities. Anything that was magnetic seemed to glow with a faint blue-green hue. And if she squinted, she could see the magnetic field surrounding her. It was like seeing your breath in front of you on a cold day.

As soon as the guard turned the corner, Undyne could see a jagged shard of metal embedded deep in the guard's left thigh. This told her three things. The first was that the guard was likely a human. The second was that the guard had, at one point, suffered some sort of injury, and a piece of shrapnel had lodged itself in their body. They had most likely been a soldier in somebody's army before Misanthropy. The third was that Undyne could control that piece of metal.

She couldn't give it much momentum, but at the very least, Undyne could levitate that piece of metal—and the guard along with it. Before the guard could raise their gun, Undyne had lifted them in the air by their leg. Their gun clattered to the floor.

Undyne punched the guard in their upended groin and dropped them to the floor. Just as a precaution, she picked up the guard's rifle and slung it over her shoulder, although she had no use for it.

“Captain, why do only the humans carry guns?” Papyrus asked.

“You know, they don't have magic. No cool magic weapons.”

“No, I mean—if your monster army has a bunch of soldiers who can't do magic and have to carry guns—wasn't anyone suspicious?”

“We all carried guns. And wore those masks and big sunglasses,” Undyne said, as she removed the fallen guard's pair of glasses. “Unless we were off duty, anyway.”

“Was anyone suspicious that half your guys never took their masks off?”

“Well, I was. You think anything gets past me? Of course, I didn't say anything about it, because I didn't want to attract attention to myself…”

The corridor shook even harder. The lights went out for a solid two seconds, bathing the corridor in darkness.

“Are the rearrangements always this rough?”

Undyne shook her head. “No, usually it just feels like you're just in an elevator, at totally random spots.” The floor shook again, and Undyne actually lost her footing. Papyrus caught her by the arm. “Thanks, dude.”

“Don't mention it, Captain.”

It felt like the Core was shaking itself apart. Undyne didn't have a clue what was happening. And it was getting warmer, too. She wondered if the Core was still stable. There were nights where Alphys would talk her fins off about the Core. She'd told her that if anything too far away from the central engine started getting hot, it could be a warning sign of a possible meltdown. Undyne had once asked, just out of curiosity, what would have happened if the Core had ever suffered a meltdown.

Alphys had admitted that, on the bright side, the Barrier would be gone. Along with the rest of the mountain. And everybody inside it. And a lot of things outside of it as well.

Undyne had never thought of the Core as a potential doomsday device. Was that Misanthropy's plan? Zero's true plan? Was everything else just a smokescreen?

They ran into another guard. This one took one look at Papyrus and took off in the other direction. Unfortunately for them, the door they'd only just stepped out of now led to a solid wall. The guard ran at full speed into the wall and bounced back.

Undyne took a look at the fallen guard. It was a human underneath the gray cloak and mask.

“You know, it's a little strange,” said Papyrus, “that all the humans working for Misanthropy seem so frightened of us monsters.”

Undyne thought for a second. Then, the realization hit. “They're not afraid of monsters!” She snapped her fingers. “Well, okay, they probably are on, like, a social level or something, because of racism. But forget about that—They're afraid of _you_ _,_ Papyrus!”

She pulled the gray cloak off of the unconscious guard and draped it over Papyrus. “Humans are totally freaked out by skeletons! To them, you look like…” She took a step back to admire her handiwork. “Paps, can you make your eye sockets a little less… cheerful?”

Papyrus tried to glare. “Is this better, Captain?”

Undyne crossed her arms and nodded. “The Grim Reaper!” She picked up the gun from the unconscious guard and slung it over her shoulder along with the other ones.

“Why are you keeping all their guns?”

Undyne shrugged. “I'd rather have them in my hands than the wrong ones.” She took a look at the fake door the guard had run into. “Let's try another way.”

“Or we could wait until this corridor moves again.”

“Not my style.” Undyne pointed down the hall. “I say we go that way.”

And so they went that way, took a different path when the corridor forked and ran into another guard.

“Scare 'em!” Undyne ordered Papyrus.

Papyrus made himself a scythe out of bones and let out his usual nasally laugh. Undyne had to admit, his costume lent a surprisingly sinister tone to that laugh of his. If she were a human, she'd be terrified.

The cloaked guard spread out their arms and summoned two white hard-light swords, then lunged forward.

 _It's not a human!_ Undyne tried to conjure a spear as the guard rushed toward them, only to remember that she'd lost that ability in the trade-off. The guard closed in on them, and Undyne pulled out the guns she'd taken. Holding one in each hand by their barrels, Undyne slammed the rifles' stocks into the guard's belly like a pair of baseball bats.

Her swings went right through the guard. The guard slashed at Undyne. With some quick reflexes and a magnetically-augmented boost to her prosthetic leg, Undyne could just barely propel herself out of the way. She recognized the guard's style. It was Snaca.

Snaca vanished into a cloud of smoke as Papyrus' scythe came down on her. She reformed behind him. Undyne rushed the guard, elbowing her in the face. Snaca stumbled backward, throwing a sword in Papyrus' general direction. It missed and embedded itself in the wall.

Papyrus took another swing at the Revenant and missed. “Undyne, do you mind if I stop using the scythe? It's not really my style…”

Snaca punched him in the face. Undyne grabbed her—Snaca dematerialized immediately—while Papyrus reeled backward.

Undyne swatted at the cloud of nanomachines as if they were a bunch of mosquitoes. Snaca picked that exact moment to reform, trapping Undyne's prosthetic inside her chest. Undyne tried to pull her hand out. It wouldn't budge. It just stayed buried inside the snake-monster's scaly chest.

Snaca pulled off her mask. She grinned. “I had no idea you still carried a torch for me, Undyne…”

Papyrus whacked Snaca on the top of her head with a femur. “Unhand the captain at once!”

Snaca slumped over, dragging Undyne's arm down with her. Undyne tried to pull her hand out again. It was still lodged inside Snaca's nanomachine-augmented body. She braced her foot against Snaca's shoulder and tried to free her hand. Still nothing. Snaca didn't move an inch. She was out cold.

“I am so sorry, Captain. That did not go as planned.”

Undyne strained to lift Snaca's unconscious body and slung it over her shoulder. “No, no, this is fine! I'll just carry her around with me until she wakes up!”

“And then what?”

“Then we beat her up properly.”

The corridor shook even more violently, and Undyne felt a pit open up in her stomach. It was like being in an elevator. A very fast elevator. What was going on?

– 

Gaster walked through the halls of the Core, consumed by a single desire—to reach the Zero Engine's control room and ensure that the Core took off without incident. The corridor shook as a terrible tremor rocked the entire structure. The Core—his brainchild—was in pain.

The Core's restructuring was not completely random. There was an order to it—one that only made sense to Gaster, its designer. Even an unscheduled, emergency transformation like this one had an order to it. Based on the day of the week, the time of day, and the time of year, Gaster could tell which corridor would be connected to which one. There were millions of possible combinations. Gaster had memorized all of them.

Gaster glanced at the serial number of the corridor, stamped onto the wall. Judging by the serial, the date, and the time… the corridor next to it would take him exactly where he needed to go. At least, for now.

He turned a corner and found himself face-to-face with two more intruders. A tall skeleton—who seemed very familiar—and a fish monster, who also seemed very familiar. But he couldn't quite place…

The fish monster took one look at him and scowled. _“You!”_ she snarled. _“What have you done with Alphys?”_

Gaster remembered this monster. The last time he'd seen her, she had been in disguise. She had punched him in the face. He still had the extra fracture in his skull.

He summoned his Gaster Blasters and immediately fired. He kept walking, confident that these two monsters would be vaporized long before he reached them.

Gaster was wrong.

Undyne had already started to charge at him. Her lowered head slammed into his abdomen and knocked the wind out of him. Gaster went down, the weights of not one but two monsters bearing down on him, and hit the burnished steel floor.

It was at this time that Gaster began to regret ripping out the carpets Alphys had installed in his absence. He felt several ribs crack beneath the force of the impact with the floor. A spattering of black bile forced its way out of his mouth. His Gaster Blasters immediately vanished.

Undyne punched him with the whole body of one of his Revenant lieutenants. _“Where is she?”_

He did not have time for this. But the late king's captain had Gaster pinned to the floor. His own Revenant super-soldier had been reduced to an unconscious (and unwilling) bludgeoning tool. Gaster tried to wriggle out from under her, to no avail.

“Well?”

Gaster managed to free his hand. [Hangar 18,] he signed. [Dr. Alphys is in Hangar 18.]

Undyne took a little longer to read Gaster's sign language than the usual company he kept. To Gaster, the few extra seconds felt like an eternity.

“Hangar 18? _Where's that?”_ She shook him by his lapels a little bit.

Gaster smiled and shrugged.

Undyne stood up, stomped on the floor (her boot landing dangerously close to Gaster's ribs) and swore. “Can you at least stop everything from moving around?”

Gaster shook his head. [Not for you.]

Undyne clobbered him again with Snaca's unconscious body. Gaster saw stars. And then Snaca woke up.

Snaca drove her foot into Undyne's stomach and knocked her to the floor, dispersing her nanomachines and releasing the captain's grip. Undyne skidded across the floor.

Gaster saw his chance to escape, scrabbled to his feet, and ran off. There would be another shift in the Core's architecture in less than a minute; but until then, the next corridor over would give him a straight shot to the control room.

With his improving luck, he couldn't help but smile, despite the lingering pain in his torso. Gaster cast a backward glance at the three monsters behind him; the tall skeleton had taken off after him. He was waving a long femur in his red-gloved hand. Gaster conjured one of his Blasters behind himself.

 _“Papyrus, wait!”_ Undyne shouted.

 _Papyrus…_ Where had Gaster heard that name before? His shot went wide and scored a deep, long furrow in the wall. He didn't bother firing a second time. He just needed a distraction until he reached the next door—

His bony hand lashed out, pried the sliding door open; the Core began to shake once more. As the door creaked open, he could see the floor beyond it begin to sink downward. Gaster dove through; the floor receded even as he fell toward it. Gaster felt the tip of his foot barely clear the door as the floor of the corridor he'd just leaped out of rose above the height of the frame. He collapsed in a heap.

Gaster looked up and caught sight of the serial number of the corridor he'd landed in. It was exactly what he'd expected. He picked himself up off the floor, brushed off his suit, and took off.

– 

Snaca, meanwhile, took off running in the opposite direction. Undyne pulled herself to her feet, still not entirely steady on her slightly-too-long prosthetic leg. She raised her arm. “Stop!” she shouted at Snaca.

Snaca, much to her bemusement, stopped. She looked down at her feet and tried to take another step. One foot moved in front of the other, but she didn't move an inch forward.

“See, treason just isn't your style,” Undyne said.

“Why can't I—”

Undyne flexed her prosthetic hand, wriggling the metal fingers. “Before I punched you, I coated my hand with a little bit of magnetic dust. And now that it's inside you… you won't be going very far.”

“Since when have—” Snaca tried to turn around, but Undyne kept her body in place. “You have lightning powers, not—”

“Electricity and magnetism are basically the same thing. Or, at least, that's what my girlfriend told me.”

Snaca smirked. “Do you wanna know where your girlfriend is now, Captain?” She shrugged. “I mean, you caught me fair and square, I might as well tell you…”

Undyne's magnetic grip loosened, just a little bit. “Yes.” She couldn't hide the hunger in her voice. She wanted so badly to see Alphys again…

“She stole one of our prototype Peace Rollers,” Snaca said, “and blasted her way out of the hangar.”

_That's my girlfriend, all right._

“She took heavy damage. The ship could barely stay above ground.” Snaca licked her lips. “As the Peace Roller plunged toward the magma lake…” Snaca took a deep breath. She doled out her next words slowly and deliberately as if she relished every single syllable. “I set off the remote-controlled bomb strapped to her neck. Just to make sure she was dead.”

_No._

Undyne's grip faltered, and Snaca shot off like a bullet, laughing all the way. Undyne chased after her, her feet pounding against the metal floor, heart pounding in her chest, her pulse pounding in her ears. There was no room in her fury-inflamed mind for strategy. Her only goal was to catch up with Snaca and tear her apart.

And then, just as she reached the door, the wall of the corridor bulged inward and a battered, triangular metal nose punched its way through. There was a horrendous metal-on-metal screech and a shower of sparks. A plume of black smoke choked the air in the corridor. Snaca was nowhere to be seen. Undyne could feel herself deflate.

Papyrus patted Undyne on the shoulder. “Now, now… Captain, I am one hundred and ten percent certain that Dr. Alphys…”

A tiny hatch on the bottom of the nose popped open, barely visible beneath the thick smoke. A short, yellow lizard crawled out, coughing violently.

Papyrus tapped Undyne on the shoulder. “Look, Undyne! I was right!”

 _“U-Undyne…?”_ Alphys limped away from the wreckage. Her face was bloody, her labcoat was stained with sweat and soot, and her glasses were twisted and askew, barely dangling from her snout. She looked around. _“Oh no,”_ she moaned, her voice hoarse. _“I landed in the wrong place!”_ And then she fell over.

Undyne rushed to Alphys' side. She was alive. Battered, bruised, bloody, and beaten, but alive. She held her close.

“Papyrus, take Alphys and return home. We can't continue the mission and drag her with us.”

Papyrus took Alphys' unconscious body from Undyne's arms. “I will protect her with my life, Captain.”

Undyne cracked her knuckles. She didn't know where Snaca had gone. Maybe the sudden impact had torn her apart. Or maybe the two of them would cross paths again. The captain walked through the cloud of smoke, past the wreckage, and into the next corridor. It was time for her to catch up with Toriel and Asgore.

Together, the three of them might have a chance of beating Zero.

As Undyne stepped across the threshold and the door closed behind her, the Core shuddered one last time.

– 

_Asriel._

_C̵a̷n̡ you ̢h̨ęa͘r ͡me͢, ̢Asri̶e͏l?_

It wasn't Frisk's voice.

_I̛ can̶'t ͞w̸a͞it ̸to ҉se҉e ̵y͡ou͡ a̧ga̸in̡,҉ ̧As͟riel.҉ ͡I͜t̴'̧s b̨ee̶n̨ to̵o l̸ong͏…̛ ͡bro͡th҉e͠r._

There was something moving in the darkness. Something vast, a leviathan creature, black-on-black, with two red pinpricks for eyes shining off in the unfathomable distance.

_I̛͜͟'͡҉M̸̧ ̧G҉OI͘N̷̶G̸͡ TO͟҉̴ ͢͞HAV҉E͠ ͠S̨O͏͟ ͏MU̸̕C͞͠Ḩ̵ ̛͟͠FUN̛͜͝, ̸A̶͜SR̨̢I͠Ȩ̨͘L._

Asriel woke up. The light was bright. It burned his eye. He was surrounded—Selim on his right, their parents on his left. He had to turn his head to see them.

“Are you all right, Prince Asriel?”

“We were afraid you'd hit your head—”

“Asriel, how many hooves am I holding up?”

Asriel waved them away and sat up. They'd brought him down to the living room and laid him on the couch. “I'm fine. I just crashed for a bit, I'm all right now.”

“Can you raise your hands above your head and sing a song?” Selim asked.

“Selim, that's only for stroke victims,” Noha told them.

“I'm fine, I—I have to go,” Asriel said, and he made a beeline for the front door. He stepped out onto the porch. He felt fine. He felt _better_ than fine. He felt like there was some kind of energy inside him—felt like he'd just drank a gallon of coffee, but without the hyperactivity. Shimmering tongues of flame, bathed in a spectrum of colors, leaped from his fingers before fading away. Asriel could feel all of his powers, all of his abilities and his potential, running just beneath his skin, and he was in full control over every single bit of it. It was just him.

He was _alone._

It was cold out.

Asriel looked up at the sky. It had gotten cloudy. Snow swirled down gently to coat the tops of the houses and the streets. There was a sense of calm that, for some reason, Asriel couldn't help but find deeply unnerving.

And then the top of Mount Ebott exploded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Great googly moogly, it's all gone to shit.


	35. The Arsenal of Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, the gang gets back together.

The sky was smoke and fire. A cloud of rubble and dust enveloped the mountain's summit, billowing down the thickly-forested slopes of the mountain. A deafening roar filled the winter air as a massive, floating machine emerged from the smoke. It was a squat cylinder, irregular and spiny crenelations ringed across its top like some evil crown. On its bottom was a glowing blue disk, arcs of electricity stretching across its diameter and sparking against the debris floating in the air. A forest of thin, spindly arms dangled limply from the machine's sides. The ground beneath Asriel's feet vibrated and the windows of every house in the kingdom rattled as a low, pulsing bass tone filled the air. A spray of tiny pebbles and dust spattered against Asriel's face.

The top of the mountain was gone. The fiery glow from the lake of magma deep below was just barely visible as a thin line of orange, as if the sun were perpetually just about to set below the horizon. In just an instant, a verdant, frost-covered mountaintop had become a vision of Mordor.

Asriel stared into the evil machine drifting above the decapitated mountain. A wave of nausea swept through his gut as a thought wormed its way through his brain. The machine floating above him was an egg, and something unspeakably evil was gestating inside it.

 _The darkness drops again but now I know,_ a familiar voice echoed from the back of Asriel's mind, grave but whimsical, youthful but ageless. _That twenty centuries of stony sleep were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle…_

Zero.

_And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?_

Asriel felt a hoof on his shoulder.

“Asriel…?” Selim asked. “What… is _that?”_

“I think…” Asriel gagged on the dust-choked air. There was something familiar about the behemoth hovering in the air. “That's the Core.”

“Did… did Zero do this?”

Asriel nodded.

“Are you going to fight them?”

Asriel nodded.

“How are you gonna get up there?”

The dust and ashes mingled with the snow falling from the clouds. Asriel had no idea how to get up there. And, to be honest, most of him didn't want to. Despite how dire the situation, despite how much he knew that only he could stop Zero… Facing such an overwhelming destructive force, Asriel was afraid.

“ I—” Asriel took a deep breath. “I'll think of something.”

His parents were up there. And they were in danger. The whole world was in danger, and whether he wanted to or not, Asriel had to do something.

– 

Papyrus came back down the hall, Alphys' unconscious body hoisted over his shoulder. “Um, Captain Undyne—”

“What?” Undyne snapped. “I told you to get out of here and get Alphys to a—”

“Yes, er, about that…” Papyrus took a step back. “We're just a little stuck here.”

“A little stuck?”

Papyrus led her down the hall. “Yes, you see—” He opened the nearest door and the air started to rush out of the room, whipping across Undyne's scales and stinging her eye, dragging her feet with the gusting wind. Papyrus shut the door before the three of them could be blown out of the corridor. Before the door closed, Undyne could see a glimpse of the mountain beneath them.

Beneath them.

They were floating in the air.

“Okay.” Undyne rubbed her forehead. Nothing could go right today, could it? “Sorry for yelling at you, Papyrus.”

“I'm sorry, Captain.”

“Why didn't Alphys tell me they were planning on shooting the whole Core into space?” Undyne grumbled as she led Papyrus further down the corridor.

“Do you really think we're going to go that high?”

Undyne shrugged. “Who knows?”

“I've always wanted to go to space. Not like this, of course,” Papyrus quickly added. “If we weren't facing imminent doom I'd be excited!” Papyrus flung his arm out dramatically in spite of himself.

A tall Misanthropy guard barreled down the hall toward them, running past Undyne and clotheslining themselves on Papyrus' outstretched arm. They hit the floor with a loud thud.

Papyrus looked down at the guard. “Wow. They looked like they were in a hurry…”

The guard sat up, looked straight at Undyne, and fell to her feet. “Oh, Captain, my captain, I'm so sorry, this isn't what I signed up for, I'm so, so, so…” Thick globs of mucus-like tears leaked from beneath their glasses. Undyne guessed that beneath the faceless, identity-hiding garb this guard was some type of slime monster. “Please don't let me be executed for treason! I just wanted to make the kingdom great again!”

Undyne took a step back from the prostrate guard. “What the…” she started to mouth to Papyrus.

A burst of static filled the corridor. _“Attention, all agents of Misanthropy.”_ Undyne recognized the voice. It was… Snaca?

_“Our organization has been compromised. The human world has infiltrated Misanthropy and turned it from a tool of justice… to an excuse for extermination.”_

The monster continued to bawl at Undyne's feet. Snaca continued.

_“If you haven't noticed already, the Core is now hovering about a mile over Newest Home. The entire summit of Mount Ebott is gone, and so is Snowdout…”_

Papyrus' face fell. “I hope Sans wasn't at his cottage…” he moaned.

 _“Newest Home will be next. We swore to protect our kind from human evil. And here we are—duped into committing the biggest murder of our own kind in generations!”_ Even over the intercom, Undyne could almost feel the rage-spittle that was surely flying from the snake monster's mouth.

_“If we do not stop this floating death machine, the human governments will have no choice but to destroy every last one of us. For the sake of our kind— for our friends, our families, we must rise up and destroy the traitors in our organization, starting with the source—our double-crossing l—”_

The intercom fell silent.

“They got her…” the bawling Misanthropy guard moaned. “That means she was right!” The guard bowed at Undyne's feet once again. “Please, help us stop Misanthropy! I have three kids down there!”

Undyne smiled. This was an interesting turn of events.

–

Deep in the heart of the control room, Gaster shook his head as he placed the trigger back in his lapel pocket. It hurt to disintegrate yet another of his creations, but it had to be done. Heaven forbid if any rebels tried to get into the control room and land the Core.

Or, perhaps it was time to call it by its true name—the _Arsenal of Heaven._

Gaster maneuvered the Arsenal higher. The Zero Engine was nearing full output, and soon, the Arsenal of Heaven would be able to activate its most terrible weapon—in fact, its only weapon.

The Zero Engine—a source of limitless power, capable of rending time and space asunder—was not only the heart of the Arsenal, running electrical lifeblood through its veins, but the most destructive power ever seen on Earth. Gaster was willing to bet that, were any life to exist elsewhere in the universe, it would not know a power this destructive.

The military arms of every major government in the world would doubtless be scrambling to deploy their forces. With the King and Queen… unavailable to explain themselves, humanity could all too easily interpret the Arsenal as a declaration of war. The stupid war hawks in the human world were all too eager to once again wage war on monsterkind…

Gaster scanned the integrity of the hangar bays. Number eighteen was ruined, and numbers twelve through fifteen had not survived the Arsenal's emergence. But Gaster still had fifteen prototype Peace Rollers. The one in Hangar 18 had, unfortunately, been the most advanced model, but the others were more than a match for any human weapon. They would act as the Arsenal of Heaven's vanguard until it was ready to scour humanity from the surface of the Earth.

Something on one of the Arsenal's outside cameras caught Gaster's eye. It looked like a ladder made of golden light, stretching from the mountainside city beneath the Arsenal …

 

–

 

Asriel balanced himself carefully on the shaft of his partisan, crouching to lower his center of gravity. He wobbled precariously, the wind whipping at his fur and howling in his ears. His teeth chattered.

He conjured another spear just above him, reached up—ignoring the way the world seemed to spin around him—and grabbed its shaft, hauling himself up another few feet. The Core above him didn't look any closer. He didn't dare look down to see how far he'd come. He conjured another partisan, reached up to grab the shaft—

His footpaw slipped, Asriel felt gravity pull his head down, he windmilled his arms—and his paw caught the shaft and held fast. His heart pounded.

Asriel hauled himself up and repeated the process, building, rung by rung, a golden ladder.

After a few more rungs, Asriel started to wonder if there was a better way. If Frisk were still here, he thought, they'd come up with something a lot smarter. He hauled himself up another rung, ignoring the cold biting through his paws.

Wait.

Frisk _was_ still there. They were still a part of him. Just like… Just like Flowey, they were still a part of his soul, even if they didn't have an individual mind anymore. _Asriel was Frisk._

And he could improvise.

Asriel hugged the spear shaft, allowing the dozens below him to vanish as he focused all of his concentration on the one holding him up. He took control of the partisan and began to lift it through the air. He could ride it like a broomstick all the way to the Core!

A dozen black flying machines emerged from the Core's tentacles. As Asriel drew closer, the wind biting at his face, the flying machines homed in on him. They were very different from the flying machine Alphys had built all those months ago, but the underlying design was the same. _Peace Rollers._

They opened fire. Dazzling beams of white light cut through the air, leaving columns of steam and the smell of burnt ozone in their wake. Asriel weaved in between the lances of energy, pulling out one arm and conjuring a long blade of golden fire around it. He couldn't focus on a solid shape—not without losing focus on his makeshift flying broomstick—and so the blade was a long tongue of fire, jagged and sparking. It cut through one Peace Roller's wing effortlessly, shearing it off in a shower of sparks. The flying machine spiraled down to the ground, a plume of black smoke trailing behind it.

Asriel fought to keep himself steady. One other Peace Roller strafed him with machine gun fire, but Asriel was far too small of a target to hit. He slashed at the enemy, stretching his blade as far as he could, and bisecting the nose. These Peace Rollers had an inverted diamond-shaped depression set in where the cockpit would have been, and Asriel hoped that it meant the machines were unmanned. The defaced Peace Roller barreled on toward him, confirming his suspicion.

Another Peace Roller launched a salvo of missiles toward him. Asriel pulled his fire blade back, spreading it into a wide disk of flames. The missiles exploded against the fire shield, forcing Asriel back. He gripped the partisan between his legs desperately as he careened through the air. The fourteen remaining Peace Rollers were closing in on him, shooting bursts of white laser light at him.

Asriel steadied himself, holding the shield in front of him to ward off attacks. He drifted backward, and was suddenly engulfed in acrid, black smoke. The vile smoke tore at his throat and lungs—it was the smoke from the Peace Roller whose wing he'd clipped! He couldn't see, but he could hear the injured plane rising to meet him.

Asriel backed out of the cloud, but still could barely see. His eyes were tearing up, his vision blurry. He took a deep breath of fresh air—but the frigid oxygen hurt his lungs almost as much as the smoke. He turned his shield back into a sword and slashed blindly. He felt his blade meet the slightest of resistance and heard the screech of metal on metal. He took a moment to wipe at his eyes with his sleeve, and after a few seconds of frantic blinking, saw two halves of a Peace Roller falling to the earth.

There were too many of them to fight head-on. And Asriel had to conserve his strength for Zero. He pointed himself straight at the Core and launched himself toward it, pushing himself as quickly as possible. The Peace Rollers pursued him relentlessly. He held a flaming shield behind himself, letting the fighter planes' weapons pound against it, each impact pushing him forward.

The Core loomed closer and closer. Soon, Asriel flew over the top, and what he saw made his heart skip a beat.

The ruins of New Home—the castle where he and Chara had grown up, the courtyard, the garden—lay on the roof of the floating Core. Its stone tower and elegant spires had barely survived the rough journey outside of the mountain. Debris, dirt, alpine trees splintered like toothpicks, and the remains of dozens of buildings littered the cracked and broken ground.

Chara could never have done such a thing to their old home—their only real home.

Asriel knew, right then and there, that there was truly nothing left of Chara within Zero.

Chara had never been a good person. But even so, they had been family, and whatever Zero was, they had taken them from him and replaced them with something truly evil.

The prince landed on one of the castle towers and took refuge inside as the Peace Rollers flew overhead and riddled the stone walls with bullets. The floor beneath Asriel's paws trembled as he hurried down to what could at least pass for solid ground.

The wooden floorboards were splintered. The walls were cracked. Every painting was either askew or lying on the floor. Dust poured from the ceiling in every room as the castle creaked and groaned under the onslaught.

The last time he had wandered these halls, Zero had been dragging him to the surface, against his will. It had changed so much. Asriel could recognize every room. But none of them looked the way he remembered them. Asriel's heart felt heavy as he ran through the ruins of his old home. But there was no time to grieve as the castle shuddered under the impact. It wouldn't last long.

Asriel ran out of the castle, his footpaws pounding against the broken cobblestone, as the walls collapsed and the roof caved in, and a cloud of dust and plaster and pulverized stone engulfed him.

–

Undyne and Papyrus had amassed quite an entourage by now. Misanthropy's ranks were in disarray; most of the monsters involved were happy to defect, while others just wanted to not go extinct. A sizable portion of the monsters had once served under Undyne's command as members of the Royal Guard. It seemed almost poetic to her for them to be following her orders yet again.

The captain had separated the Misanthropy defectors into three groups. Team A followed her to meet up with the King and Queen and take out Zero; Team B stayed with Papyrus to keep Alphys safe; Team C went off to secure Misanthropy's control room and land the Core.

Undyne prowled the corridors until, at last, she met up with a familiar face.

In the middle of the hall, Toriel knelt on the floor, her violet robes pooled around her. The queen was utterly motionless.

“Queen Toriel…?”

No response.

Undyne crept closer. _“It's me, Undyne. Are you… okay…?”_ As the words left her mouth, Undyne became conscious of the gray-white dust covering the floor. It had been kicked up and trampled underfoot; Undyne could see footprints stamped in the little mound of dust sitting next to the queen.

Undyne felt like she'd been punched in the gut.

One of the guards behind her piped up. “Queen Toriel, what happened to—” Undyne elbowed them in the stomach and knocked the wind out of them.

The queen spoke. Her voice was hoarse. _“He was standing right beside me…”_

Undyne put her hand on Toriel's shoulder. “It'll be o—” She stopped herself short. She couldn't lie like that to royalty. “I'm sorry…”

The gentle giant who had taught Undyne everything she'd known about fighting, who had always encouraged her and valued her service, who had tried on several occasions to introduce her to herbal tea and gardening… was gone.

Asgore was dead.

 _“It happened so quickly… and he walked past me… like he did not even notice…”_ Toriel's voice wavered. _“How do you kill a king—somebody like Asgore—and not even care about it?”_

“Was it… Zero?”

Toriel shook her head. “I—I do not know… It was somebody I've never seen before… in my entire life…”

Undyne helped the queen to her feet. “Come on, Queen Toriel. We can't mope here. It's not what he'd have wanted us to do…”

Toriel cupped her paws and scooped up a handful of the dust. The ashen, gray-white dust trickled through her fingers. “We cannot leave him behind—That would not be right…”

“It'll be okay, we'll come back for… him…”

One of the Misanthropy defectors behind Undyne spoke up. “Captain, should we take the queen and meet up with Team B? Her Majesty's in, uh…” they tugged at their collar. “She's in no position to join Team A…”

Undyne thought about it. It was true that Queen Toriel did not seem able to continue the mission. But she had her doubts about leaving the queen unattended. Sure, some of the Misanthropy guards tailing her had gladly renounced their ties to the organization. But did she trust them to take care of the Queen? Would one of them try to kill the queen as soon as her back was turned?

“Do not worry, Captain. It is my responsibility to stand with you against Zero.”

Undyne was taken aback by Toriel's words. “But what about—”

“Asriel will make a fine king when we are gone.”

“Your Majesty, look, I like the kid, but he's _fifteen.”_

“I would rather we die so he may live, than any other way.” Toriel's face was stern and resolute, although her red eyes, still wet with tears, betrayed her inner anguish.

“I'm not really on the same page, but it's your funer—” Undyne held her tongue. “I mean, okay! Strength in numbers, right?” And then, in a low voice, she asked, _“Are you sure about this, Toriel?”_

“Asgore and I knew the risks, Captain.”

That was a yes, then. Undyne and Toriel continued onward, the Misanthropy defectors trailing behind them.

There were few enemies left to fight in the Core—all of the monsters in Misanthropy had either defected or surrendered, and most of the humans had laid down their guns. The infighting between the human and monster elements of Misanthropy had been swift and short. And yet, with every abandoned hallway, Undyne's sense of unease grew. And it wasn't just because the labrynth's eternal shifting made it so difficult to tell up from down. The closer she came to Zero, the more she remembered her last fight with the demon child. She had been helpless—Zero had been in an entirely different class. Even though she knew they could stop time—how was she going to defend against such an ability?

Was she really leading herself and her queen, to whom she'd sworn an oath to protect, to their deaths?

A human guard came screaming across the corner of a J-shaped hallway, gun drawn, ready to fire. Undyne could sense the metal in their rifle and reached out to pull it away. But before she could, a tongue of fire lashed out, bisecting the human's weapon. The rifle misfired with a loud bang, and a young white-furred monster wrestled the useless hunk of metal from the guard's hands and subdued them with a jab to the neck. The guard slumped to the floor.

He put his paws on his hips, a wide grin on his face, his golden eye bright. “Hi, Mom. Hi, Undyne. I'm here to help. Where's Dad?”

For a moment, there was dead silence. Undyne looked down at the floor. Prince Asriel's smile shrank by a few teeth, then vanished completely. “D-did something happen to him…? Is he all right?”

“Asriel… why did you come here?” Toriel asked.

“T-to save you and Dad…”

 _“Asriel came here for the same reason you did,”_ a familiar voice rang out from behind Undyne's Team A.

Standing behind the team of Misanthropy defectors was a young human child, about Asriel's age, with an unruly mop of chestnut hair, pale and unblemished skin, rosy cheeks, and piercing, blood-red eyes. They smiled.

Every Misanthropy defector conjured an armory of weapons—spears, swords, axes—and lunged at the child.

Every Misanthropy defector ended up with their weapons driven through each others' guts, as if they had, in a split second, decided to attack each other instead. Each one collapsed into dust immediately, leaving a residue of whitish-gray ash on the metal floor.

 _“Chara…”_ Asriel whispered.

The child walked with slow, deliberate steps toward Asriel. Toriel and Undyne blocked their path. But Toriel seemed unsure of herself. Undyne could see it in her face, in her haunted eyes, and knew that the queen was seeing not only the ghost of Frisk, but another phantom as well.

 _“No!”_ Asriel shouted.

Chara took another step toward them, and suddenly reappeared on the other side. They took another step toward Asriel as Undyne and Toriel, bemused, turned around.

Chara crossed their arms. “You came here to kill me, didn't you?”

“How dare you wear that face,” Asriel growled. The light in his golden eye had grown cold and hard. “After everything you did… to our family… to our home… to our people…”

“It wouldn't be the first time you've killed me, right, Azzy?”

Asriel clenched his fist. “You're not Chara. That day, with the door—you took over their body. Like—some kind of…”

“Demon?” the child suggested.

“What are you, Zero?” Asriel asked. “What are you, _really?”_

Zero grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Opening notes of "Roundabout" begin to play*


	36. Aversion to Disaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, the day is saved...?

“Zero… ” Asriel repeated. “What are you? Where did you come from?”

The creature wearing Chara's face grinned. “A tiny town called Ebott, two miles west of the mountain…”

Zero was mocking him. “No. That's not what I meant, Zero.”

Zero rolled their eyes. “Do you remember the child who fell into the mountain? It's a simple story, I think you know it well…”

From behind Zero, Undyne winked at Asriel. Or, at least, Asriel thought she was winking.

“A long time ago, a lost child with no family fell down a hole and was taken in by a family of monsters. Then they got sick and died, and their adoptive brother tried to take their body back to the surface. And then he died, too.” Zero seemed bored. “It was all very sad.”

“That's Chara's story,” Asriel growled. “You stole it just like you stole their body.”

Zero sighed. “What do you want, Azzy?”

Asriel clenched his fists. “I want answers. Before I kill you, I want to know why you've done everything you've done to us.”

“Fair enough. Once upon a time, there was a child who died—”

 _“SHUT UP!”_ Asriel lashed out and decked Zero across the face. The demon stumbled backward, into Undyne. The captain's metal forearm hooked around their neck, and in a swift, fluid motion, Undyne snapped Zero's neck. The light went out of their red eyes and their lifeless body slumped to the floor.

Toriel covered her gaping mouth with her paw. Undyne looked down at the corpse with shock and disgust. A nearly-audible silence filled the room. Asriel could only hear his own heart pounding in his chest.

Was that really the end of everything? Could that really be it?

Asriel crept toward the body and knelt beside it. Their skin was already cold, their lips tinged blue. No pulse. No heartbeat. No breathing. Zero's mouth was slightly agape in shock, their sightless eyes staring a thousand yards away. He looked down at his paw and saw a spot of blood where his knuckles had split Zero's lip. It was red, fading to pink at the edges of the stain on his white fur.

Toriel unclasped the brooch at her neck, sloughing off her violet cloak, and wrapped it around Asriel. He hadn't realized how cold he still felt. “We should go, Asriel.”

Undyne nudged the body with her foot. “You know, I really didn't think that was gonna work. I was hoping you'd keep them distracted enough for me to stab 'em in the back. You think maybe their time stopping powers were on cooldown?”

“They've got to be faking it.” Asriel shook his head. “They're playing a game.”

“Yeah, and we kicked their ass at it. Remember when Alphys beat that one game in five seconds?”

“Language, Captain,” Toriel chided Undyne.

“They're faking it.”

Undyne took Zero's pulse. “Look, kid, I'm no human medical expert, but I don't think humans can live without a heartbeat.” With her prosthetic hand, she tousled Asriel's hair.

_Humans can't survive plane crashes either._

“You did good, getting all the way up here by yourself. So wanna help me land this thing? There's a creepy skeleton guy at the center controlling it. He probably wants to, I dunno, shoot a giant laser at the White House or something.”

“A… skeleton 'guy'…?” Toriel asked, a faraway tone in her voice.

“And if Zero's really faking their death again, we can take care of them later.” Undyne helped Asriel to his feet. “Asriel Dreemurr. Are you a bad enough dude to save the President?”

“O-okay… ”

After a little bit of wandering, Undyne's new team reached the center of the Core. The Core's inner depths were more mechanical, more industrial; the burnished floors gave way to grated walkways, the light of the Core's central engine shining through gaps in the floor and casting stark diamond- patterned shadows on everything. The air was thick and humid, and filled with electricity.

“The control room shouldn't be too far. Where's Team C?” Undyne wondered aloud. She opened the door to the next corridor.

The grated walkway had been blown apart, leaving nothing but two ends of twisted and upturned metal filaments over a long chasm. At the end of the chasm was a flattened cylinder, a version of the Core itself in miniature, suspended from the ceiling by thick cables. A thin balcony ringed the cylinder. It certainly looked like a control room.

“Oh.”

A door on the side of the control room opened, and a tall, lithe monster stepped out. The monster raised their pale hands and started moving them.

“That's the guy,” Undyne pointed out.

[More visitors?] the monster signed. [How delightful. And the Queen and Prince, too! ]

“Mind letting us in, Gaster?” Undyne called out from the other side of the chasm.

Gaster. The name seemed familiar to Asriel, and the face as well. It was the same face on the Misanthropy logo, plus a few extra cracks. That was the phantom Frisk had seen during their adventure underground.

[I've put on a pot of tea for you all,] Gaster continued. [Queen Toriel, I even have your husband's favorite blend. Where is he, by the way?]

Toriel's grip on Asriel's shoulder tightened. Asriel looked up at her and saw the look of absolute fury written in every line of her face.

 _“Asriel,”_ she told him through gritted teeth. _“Go wait in the other room.”_

[Queen Toriel,] Gaster signed. [Do you know what it's like to be murdered by somebody you've never met?]

A cluster of floating skulls appeared in the chasm. [In his final moments, your husband knew that feeling so very well…]

Undyne gasped. “Gaster… You killed Asg—”

_Asgore?_

Asriel felt something inside him break. _Dad… is dead?_

_I was too late._

_I couldn't save him._

_I've never been strong or fast enough._

A fire was burning in Asriel's fist. _“Gaster!”_

Toriel put out her arm across his chest. “No, child.” Asriel looked over and saw her left arm wreathed with lavender and violet tongues of flickering flame. “Asriel. I know you are proud of your abilities, and your natural strength is a sight to behold. But you have not practiced your magic for two thousand years. Do not endanger yourself.”

[Will you put up more of a fight than the king?] Gaster signed. [Doubtful. You were always so much more of a coward than him.]

Toriel stretched out her arm. All of Gaster's skulls swiveled toward her, their open mouths making them seem insatiably hungry. Their maws glowed with ghostly light.

[I was in far too much of a hurry when I killed him. I will make sure to savor the experience this time...]

And then, one by one, each skull burst into flames and shattered. Only one skull got a shot off, and with the fire wreathing her arm, Toriel swatted the beam of light aside. Sparks flew from the wall.

Asriel looked up at Toriel. The warm, soft features on his mother's face had vanished completely. “Gaster. You have asked me if I know what it is like to be murdered by somebody you have never met. But I must tell you, in two thousand years I have never once seen your face. ”

Gaster took a step back, stumbling against the wall of the control room. Even Asriel was starting to feel a twinge of fear. He'd known that his mother had fought in the war all those centuries ago, and he knew that she could very well use magic to defend herself. But he'd never imagined that Toriel still commanded such power.

Toriel pointed an accusatory finger at Gaster. “Three times you have threatened my family. You have made good on one threat. I will give you no chances on the other two.”

Gaster turned around, opened the door, and burst into flames. Pale lavender flames danced across his black suit. On the other side of the chasm, Toriel made her hand into a fist, and a blossom of violet flames erupted from the skeletal monster's chest.

The smoke cleared, and the monster staggered across the narrow catwalk ringing the control room. He fell over, leaning on the railing. A skull materialized in front of him.

Toriel snapped her fingers, and both the skull and Gaster burst into flames again. Bits of smoking bone fragments showered the monster. The flames died out, and Gaster slipped over the railing, falling into the chasm and vanishing into the soft light below.

Toriel fell to her knees. “I am quite sorry you both had to see me do that,” she told Asriel and Undyne. “One should never see a queen resort to violence as I just did.”

Asriel had just watched his mother—his kind, gentle mother, who had never passed up an opportunity to tell him not to try and solve his problems with violence—kill someone else. He felt conflicted, to say the least.

Asriel didn't suppose his mother would ever teach him how to set things aflame from afar. But a part of him wished she would.

Undyne's eye bulged. “I think we understand, Your Majesty. Damn, though, if only you could do that to some of the creeps you have to deal with…”

Toriel shook her head. The rage filling her body seemed to have been replaced with weariness. “I can do this… perhaps once every few centuries. I never intended to use it more often. I do not wish to set a bad example, you see.”

“Yeah, Asriel,” Undyne said, “You shouldn't use violence to solve your problems unless your family's in danger.”

Asriel hugged Toriel tight. “ Y-you're not gonna… die, are you?”

Toriel chuckled. “No, no, Asriel, I suspect I will just be… very tired, for a while.”

Undyne wrenched the sliding doors open. “I've got an idea. Asriel, come help me out.”

Asriel followed Undyne into the room they had left.

“We need to cut off a part of this catwalk,” Undyne told him, “and bring it into the next room.”

Asriel thought about the plan. “Then how do we get through this room?”

Undyne scratched her chin. “We put it back when we're done with it. Now walk about… ten yards? And saw off the walkway.”

Asriel did so, then came back and sawed off the other end with his blade. The walkway's severed ends glowed bright orange.

Undyne stretched out her arms and the segment of the walkway lifted into the air. Asriel was floored. “Since when could you do that?”

“Oh, yeah, I have magnet powers now.” Undyne guided the walkway into the next room. “Come on, you need to weld this back.”

With the makeshift bridge in place, Undyne and Asriel ventured into the control room. What they found was a single swivel chair, surrounded by a semicircle of blinking diagnostic lights, banks of video screens, and a complex control system. Undyne took a look at it.

“So where's this thing going?” Asriel asked.

“It's just staying in place.” Undyne seemed incredulous. “We're not going anywhere…” She checked a few more diagnostic screens. “Okay, uh, Alphys could probably make sense of all this crap on these screens… but it sure looks like this thing is gonna shoot all of the Core's energy out in every direction… and then crash into the ground.”

“When's it gonna do that?”

Undyne shrugged. “It's not like there's a countdown here or anything.”

“That Gaster guy probably knew when it was gonna blow.”

Undyne wrinkled her brow. “Who?”

“Gaster?” Was Undyne joking with him? “The guy we just saw my mom burn alive?”

Undyne snorted with laughter. “Your _mom?_ Kill a guy? In front of you? Pull the other one, why don't you?”

How could she not remember? She'd been right there. “You were standing right next to her, Undyne! Not even five minutes ago! She blew up all his skulls and set him on fire and he fell into the Core, and you were like, wow, and…”

“Look, Asriel, we didn't fight anyone on our way here. The bridge was just out, so we fixed it.”

Asriel was dumbstruck. Was he going mad? “This really isn't the time for jokes, Undyne, so cut the crap! Why are you being so obtuse all of a sudden?”

“What was the guy's name again?”

Asriel sighed and rolled his eye. “It was G—” He paused. What had his name been? It had been right there in his head, but as he had started to say it, it vanished from the tip of his tongue. “His name was something like, Gutsy, or Guzzler, or something.”

“Wow. That's a really dumb name.”

Asriel buried his forehead in his paws. “No, that wasn't right, his name was—I—Why don't I remember, it was five minutes ago!” He tried to focus on the monster's appearance. “They were—a skeleton, they had a bunch of cracks on their skull, and a suit—”

Undyne stood up. “Look, Asriel, I know you've been under a lot of stress. It's okay to freak out like this, see things that aren't there…”

Asriel gestured around the control room. “He built this place!”

“Alphys built this place.”

“Even the death machine that's gonna wipe out everyone on the planet?”

“You've got me there.”

“Look, I'll get Mom, she'll remember…”

“Wait.” Undyne held up her hand. “You said this mystery guy fell into the Core?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Alphys told me a story once. A sort of ghost story. Said some scientist was working at the center of the Core and fell in. And after that, nobody remembered him. Like he was erased from history.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah, but I always thought it was BS.” Undyne waved her hands. “I mean, look, if no one remembers you, how can anyone tell a story about you? See, what did the guy look like again?”

“He was—” Asriel thought for a moment. “Tall, and thin, and—uh, he was tall…”

“See, how can you tell a story if you can't describe what the main character looks like?”

“So what does happen if you fall into the Core?”

“Well, you'd be vaporized. And Alphys said there are these things called 'tachyons', and they… uh, do some… 'timey-wimey' thing.”

“'Timey-wimey'?”

“Her words, not mine. So, uh… If there really was something to that story…” Undyne's eye gradually widened. “When this thing blows its load, it's gonna spread particles that vaporize everyone… and erase them from history.”

“That's Zero's plan. Erase the human race.” Asriel couldn't even imagine something like that. What would it be like to wake up one day and not remember that eight billion people used to share the planet with you? “We've got to shut down the Core.”

“Obviously.” Undyne went back to the controls.

“Does this thing have an off switch?”

“There's got to be some way to stop it from melting down…” Undyne pulled out a small radio. “Alphys! If she's awake, she's got to know!”

“'If she's awake'?”

“Yeah, she crashed a plane into the Core. But I think she'll be okay! Hey, Papyrus? How's Alphys doing?” She paused. “Great! Listen, I really need to talk to her right now.” There was a bit of a longer wait.

“Hey, Alphys!” Undyne's eye brightened. “How's my trash babe doing?” She put her hand over the receiver. _“It's a pet name,”_ she loudly whispered to Asriel. _“I don't think she's trash at all!”_ She turned back to the radio. “Really? The size of a golf ball? That's too bad… Say, how's your brain feeling? D'you think you could… walk me through shutting down the Core?”

Undyne fumbled for the controls, holding the radio receiver in between her cheek and her shoulder. “Really? That's the password? No, no, it's okay, I guess, it's just… does it need all those letters and numbers? And they all have to be upper case and lower case? How do you remember something like that? Well, I just use the first six letters on the keyboard…” Undyne blushed sheepishly. “N-no, not for _everything…”_

All of the lights in the room turned off, leaving nothing for illumination but the blinking diagnostic lights. And one by one, they were going out.

Asriel stepped out of the control room. The soft white glow in the depths below was fading to gray. The air was still hot, but there was no more electric charge coursing through the atmosphere.

He ran across the bridge. Toriel was still waiting on the other side, slumped over and resting. He hoped she was just resting.

He gently shook her shoulder. “Mom? You all right?”

Toriel's eyes cracked open. “Hmm? Yes, my child, I am just fine, I just…” She stood up. “I have gotten quite tired… I must be getting older, my child.”

Asrel steadied her. She didn't remember… whatever their name had been either.

“The lights are going out,” she noticed.

“Undyne's shutting off the power. No more doomsday device.”

The entire Core shook violently. The makeshift bridge rattled. Undyne swore so loudly that Asriel and Toriel could hear it from the other side of the room. Toriel reflexively clapped her paws over Asriel's ears.

The captain bolted out of the control room, her heavy footsteps pounding against the flimsy bridge. She stopped ahead of Toriel and Asriel, hands on her knees, and took a deep breath. “Okay, the good news is we've just saved eight billion people.” She took another deep breath. “The bad news is we're going to crash into the mountain, probably.”

“Oh, dear. We will be history…”

Undyne shook her head. “There's enough residual tachyon whatevers that we're not even gonna be that. Geography, if we're lucky.”

Toriel rubbed her temples. “I'm afraid I don't understand…”

“We can explain later. We've got to go! Asriel, get the bridge!”

Asriel ran to the other end of the bridge and cut the end off. The bridge sagged under his weight as he scurried to the other side. The light was quickly dying beneath him, replacing the soft glow of the Core with an inky blackness. The Core shook again.

“How are we gonna find the others? ” Asriel asked Undyne as she put the bridge back.

“We're all gonna head up, toward the surface.”

Asriel wondered how they were going to get to safety after they reached the top of the Core. But he thought it would be better not to ask at this point. He didn't look forward to seeing the old castle—or at least, what was left of it—especially with his mother in tow.

Undyne led the way through the corridors, always searching for the path to higher ground. The whole way up, Asriel felt that something was missing. He'd come up to fight Zero, and their absence hung over his mind, lurking in every deepening shadow as the dim red emergency lights of the Core faded out. They couldn't have died with so little fanfare. And without giving him any answers…

It wasn't the first time Asriel had wished he could reset the world like Frisk had once been able to do.

In an unexamined room deep within the Core, something in a coffin stirred.

–

When they finally broke through to the surface, the wind was howling across the shattered stones and ruined earth. Asriel could feel the whipping wind trying to pluck him off of the ground. At such an altitude, the wind was frigid enough regardless of the season. At the wee hours of the morning on Christmas Day, the atmosphere was a particularly violent icebox. The sky was still thick with dust and smoke, roiling black clouds filling the air.

“How far up are we?” Asriel shouted over to Undyne.

Undyne shivered. Somehow, her scales had goosebumps. “Dunno, and honestly, I'm not keen on getting close to the edge…”

A gaggle of monsters, and a few captive humans, popped out from the ruins of the old castle. Standing at their head was a familiar tall, thin skeleton. He waved out at the trio with his thick red gloves. “Captain Undyne! Queen Toriel! Prince Asriel! Over here!”

Asriel, Toriel, and Undyne entered the castle ruins, thankful to be free of the wind. They'd set up base in the shattered remains of the living room. Alphys was curled up in Toriel's old armchair, wrapped in a mixture of dusty old blankets pilfered from the bedrooms and donated Misanthropy guard robes. Undyne headed straight for her, wrapping her arms around her and lifting the yellow lizard-girl into the air. “Alphys! Wow! You look so warm!”

Papyrus looked over Toriel's shoulder. “Is the King… lagging behind?”

 _“Undyne, I love you, but please put me down, I'm getting nauseous!”_ Alphys cried out.

Asriel and Toriel shared a glance. “He…”

“Yes,” Toriel said. “In a matter of speaking.”

“He must be locked into battle with a titanic foe! I hope he makes it out soon…”

Alphys mimed pushing her glasses up the bridge of her snout, the remembered she wasn't wearing hers. “So, uh,” she explained, “I've got some good news. The engines keeping this thing afloat aren't dead yet, since they have their own power source. I k-know because, uh, you're looking at the genius who designed them…”

Undyne clapped for her.

“The engines won't last forever, and as the power runs out, they won't be able to fight against gravity. So right now we're floating gently downward. A-and hopefully? We'll, uh… land. Can't tell how long, though, since I have no idea how high up we still are... Unhopefully? We'll crash and die horribly.”

“You told me we were crashing earlier, ” said Undyne.

“I was hedging my bets!”

Asriel looked out at the ruined courtyard through a shattered windowpane. There was an itching in the back of his mind, like an indistinct voice that could not be silenced. He couldn't shake the feeling that Zero, the real Zero, was somewhere down there, worming their way to the surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Gaster. He wanted to be a Vanilla Ice and ended up a Kenny G.


	37. Identity Crisis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we learn the truth about Zero.

It was strangely cozy in the ruins of the old castle. The dilapidated halls were dark and gloomy, lit only by a few pale lavender will-o’-wisps Toriel had conjured and left hovering in the air. She could only manage to conjure a few orbs of fire, lamenting how spent she felt. It seemed only Asriel knew why she felt that way, (although the details were starting to slip through his mind as well—there had been a fight of some sorts, against a tall, thin man, and his mother had been very angry—everything else was fuzzy).

Undyne had gathered all of the weapons from what was left of Misanthropy and piled them in the center of the living room, although it seemed an unnecessary precaution. The remaining monsters were all too happy to rally behind her and the Queen, and the remaining humans seemed unwilling to fight. There were five huddled in the corner, still clad head-to-toe in black, with their faces covered. One of them had taken out a deck of cards.

“Got any threes?” one asked.

Papyrus was gathering blankets, humming a disjointed tune that didn’t seem to have much of a melody to it. He’d been discussing the viability of using the blankets as makeshift parachutes with Alphys. Asriel knew he was keeping himself busy to keep his mind off of the calamity that had befallen the kingdom. He hoped Sans hadn’t been in that little cottage of his when the mountain blew its top, too. Nobody could have survived such a massive eruption… Asriel hoped the citizens of Newest Home were safe as well.

The prince wandered through the castle and found himself standing in the middle of his old bedroom. He held a golden flame in his cupped paw to light up the room, casting soft and flickering yellowy light on the walls. The ceiling was cracked and sagging in the center of the room, and a few of the wooden floorboards had shattered. But it was still his room. The last time he’d been here… Zero had just stolen Frisk’s body and had taunted him. This room had been their final stop on their little tour of the Underground… before they had reached the surface.

Asriel had been a little embarrassed it had taken him so long to realize that Zero wasn’t Chara. But now he was just angry. Angry that Zero had taken from him not only his adoptive sibling and his best friend, but his new best friend as well, and his eye, and the two years of his life he’d spent under Zero’s heel, and now his father…

The flame in his palm surged, singeing his white fur and pink paw pads. The room trembled ominously as if his anger alone could cause the ceiling to fall down on him. Asriel took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. The fireball shrank back down to its previous size.

Asriel let the fireball hover beside him and crouched down in front of the dresser drawers. Chara’s was the top drawer. He rummaged through it, feeling something cold and sharp at the back of the drawer, underneath the rolled-up, dusty clothes. He pulled it out and held it under the light of the flame, catching his reflection in the gleaming steel of the blade.

Now, was it Chara who had been keeping a sharpened knife in their dresser drawer… or Zero?

Asriel held onto the knife and stepped out of the bedroom. The floorboards groaned as he walked over the threshold and into the hall of the castle’s east wing (although with the castle floating above the mountain so listlessly, it probably wasn’t facing east anymore). He walked through the foyer, past the basement staircase. Half of the foyer had sloughed away, leaving it exposed to the outside air, and a light dusting of snow and ice had started to blanket the floor. The wind was howling.

Asriel cast a glance out at the black landscape. With the thick cloud coverage and lack of lights, visibility was just about nil. But there was something white outside, standing in the cracked and ruined wasteland that had used to be the royal courtyard. It looked like a giant pill… or a refrigerator.

Something rustled behind him. Asriel whirled around and caught a glimpse of a pale face halfway up the staircase. A human around his age, crouched on the stairs, with wild and shoulder-length brown hair.

Zero slowly raised a finger to their lips, and then popped out of sight.

Asriel ran into the living room. _“Zero’s here!”_ He caught his breath. “I saw them on the staircase… We need to get going.”

He glanced around the room. Zero hadn’t used their time stop to get to the living room before him… Why?

“You sure, Asriel?” Undyne asked. She was helping Papyrus and the rest of the former Misanthropy members sew two large duvet covers together, with some assistance from Toriel. “I know you’ve been through a lot, kid. Maybe you’re seeing things. Besides, if they were here, wouldn’t we be under attack right now?”

“Well… we should get going, irregardless.”

“You can help us sew these parachutes together, Asriel,” Toriel told him. “Many hands make for light work.”

Asriel glanced over his shoulder. Had it been a hallucination? Come to think of it, when he was around Zero at their most bloodthirsty, he could always feel the pressure of their mind on his… and he hadn’t felt anything here, or when Undyne had “killed” them in the corridor earlier for that matter. And if Zero were here… why wouldn’t they use their ability to stop time to kill them all instantly? Zero had always been capricious, but were they really so dedicated to toying with Asriel and his family and friends?

Asriel sighed. “Maybe…”

One of the six humans in the corner stood up. The other five stuck to their card game, oblivious. Wait— six humans?

The human made a mad dash for the weapons cache in the middle of the room. One of the monsters shouted and lunged at the black-clad human. They wrestled over one of the dozen rifles piled on the floor. Undyne sprang into action, splaying out her hands, and the remaining guns lifted off of the ground and surrounded the insurgent human.

The human wrenched their rifle out of the one monster’s grip and stumbled backward. The rifle bucked and jerked around in their hands, and Undyne grew frustrated.

“C’mon, punk, let go!” the captain growled.

The five humans set down their cards and grabbed the sixth by the shoulders. The sixth was much shorter than the others—probably not an adult like the rest. Undyne finally tore the rifle from their hands and pinned it to the ceiling.

“Sorry about that,” one of the humans told the rest of the monsters. “We don’t know what’s gotten into…” He paused. “Hey, you’re awfully short to be one of us. What’s your name, anyway?” he asked the insurgent.

Asriel hadn’t even seen the humans let go of the troublemaker, but suddenly, they were free, and they grabbed a gun from the air and opened fire.

Asriel and everybody else ducked as bullets sprayed through the air in a wide arc. One of the humans tackled the attacker, only for the attacker to, with a strength belying their small stature, to smack the butt of their rifle into their throat. They swung at another monster charging at them, knocking them aside, and opened fire again as another human and monster dove for their legs.

Undyne still held the rest of the guns in a circle around the room, and aimed each at the shooter. She used her new magnetic powers to hold down on the triggers, and the deafening roar of automatic rifle fire filled the air, riddling the walls with bullet holes and filling the air with blinding muzzle flashes.

Asriel could barely see the attacker hit the floor and aim their rife. He conjured a spear and flung it forward. It was a hard target to hit, but Asriel was able to split the rifle’s barrel right down the middle just as the shooter squeezed the trigger. The gun misfired with a loud bang and a flash of light. Asriel’s partisan stuck in the floor at an acute angle.

The floating rifles fell silent and the room went dark. Asriel blinked colored spots from his eye as the harsh glare of muzzle flashes subsided. A loud ringing filled his ears, louder and more painful in his left ear, as he stood up, lighting a fire to illuminate the room.

Undyne scrambled for the attacker before they could get up and grabbed them, twisting both of their arms behind their back and holding them to the floor. “Everyone okay?” she asked.

One of the humans took a look at the one who’d been hit in the throat. “Still breathing,” they said. “He'll be fine.”

“No injuries here,” one of the monsters reported to Undyne.

Undyne grabbed at the attacker’s facemask. “Now let’s see who this punk really is…” She pulled the mask off.

Toriel gasped. Asriel was too surprised to gasp.

It was Zero—like before, in the form of Chara. They smiled. “Howdy, guys.” Their eyes bored into Asriel’s. “Remember when you used to say ‘howdy’, Asriel? And how I’d always tease you for it?” They turned to face Toriel. “Hey, Mom. How’s Dad doing?”

Toriel clutched at her chest. _“Y-you…”_

Asriel found himself shaking with rage. _“H-h-how dare you…”_ he spluttered. “Zero… you’re disgusting.” He walked toward Zero, wrenched his partisan out from the floorboards, and held the roiling flames coating its blade inches from Zero’s nose. “I won’t ask you again,” Asriel said through gritted teeth. “What the hell are you?”

Zero laughed nervously. “I-I’m Chara, Azzy. Y-you know…”

“I don’t believe you.”

Zero rolled their eyes. “Okay, then. Guess I’ll have to start from the beginning.” They glanced up at Undyne. “C-can I get a little more comfortable?”

Undyne took several deep breaths. “The only reason I haven’t beheaded you yet,” she said, “is because I’m kinda curious about all this, too. _But you’d better make it a good story!”_

“Fair enough. So, long story short, I’m Chara.”

 _“No!”_ The ball of flame Asriel had conjured for light erupted, spilling light across the room. The surface of the sphere of light boiled madly, casting ragged and flickering shadows on the floor, walls, and ceiling. _“I refuse to accept that!”_ Asriel shoved the partisan blade into the floor, where it sank up to its hilt. _“Not anymore!”_

“Fine. Short story long. I used to be Chara. Look, all you monsters—you know my story, right? Child falls into your little fairy kingdom, everyone loves them, they die tragically and their dear, devoted brother…” Zero feigned a sniffle. “Their darling brother risks life and limb to bring their corpse to the surface… and then he dies tragically, too!

“But here’s the part they don’t teach you in school.” Zero grinned. “My death was no accident. I poisoned myself to death—with Asriel as my accomplice. The plan was simple: use my soul to cross the barrier, collect the souls of seven evil humans, and then use them to break the barrier. And it worked great! For an hour or so, Asriel and I shared a body, and we were the strongest thing in creation… But then he chickened out.”

Zero glared at Asriel. “Even when we were under attack from stupid humans, he refused to take a single life—or even defend himself! This moron got the both of us killed. And for me, it was the second time in the same day! Just try to put yourself in my shoes. Is it any wonder I turned out evil?”

Toriel opened her mouth, but didn’t say anything.

“Hold on, Mom, we’re not done. We’re only at the beginning,” Zero chided her.

“Don’t call her that,” Asriel growled.

“Shut up, you. Anyway, Asriel, you and I both died and it was all your fault. Now, as you all know, some little bit of Asriel survived, and now he’s alive. Well… a little bit of me survived, too. And boy, was I mad! Unlike you, though, I didn’t have a flower to live in. I didn’t have any body to live in. Basically, I was a very malevolent fart.

“So, imagine life for… how long was it? A long time, right? Life as an evil little gust of wind, howling through all those tunnels you lived in. Until one day, hope! A body I could possess!”

“Frisk…?” Undyne asked.

“Yes, but not the one you knew and loved,” Zero explained. “This Frisk was… a total freak. Probably liked pulling the wings off of flies and torturing little squirrels. And you know what they loved more than anything?”

The room was dead silent.

“Numbers… they loved making numbers go up! They loved starting from zero, and going up, and up, and up! Especially…” Zero licked their lips. “Especially their kill count. And as that number went up… the other number went down. They kept track, you know. They counted down how many monsters were left in each part of the kingdom, and they wouldn’t leave one spot until they were done.” Zero’s eyes twinkled as they spoke. “And it was so, so much fun, Asriel, to make our numbers go up, and their numbers go down, and to keep killing until there was nothing left to kill! Asriel, it was infectious! You really ought to give it a try some time…”

“But…” Papyrus spoke up. “Frisk would never…”

Zero rolled their eyes. “Idiot. Like I said: Not your Frisk.” They sighed. “So there we were. We didn’t leave the Underground until it was empty. We killed _everyone_. Even your brother, Papyrus! Did you have any idea how diabolical Sans could be if you put his back against a wall?”

Asriel tried to sort the pieces of Zero’s testimony in his mind. “So you’re Chara… but from another universe?”

“Correct. And in that universe, I soon found out that the two of us couldn’t possibly take on the rest of the world. You could kill the entire monster race with a rusty spoon if you were determined enough. I know because I did it once. Humans are… a little more resilient.” One of the humans nodded proudly. The human standing beside them jabbed them with their elbow.

“So I needed to… preserve the monster race. Make use of their magical powers and scientific advancements. Surely then I’d have the tools I need… to reach that hallowed kill count of eight billion.” They spoke the number as if it were holy. “So, as you know, Frisk had these nifty reset powers. So I just… coerced them to go back to the beginning so we could try again, and maybe not murder anyone this time.”

 _“A-awfully n-nice of you,”_ Toriel managed to whisper.

“But it turns out, going cold turkey was pretty hard. We had to wean ourselves off of killing. So we’d do a run where we only killed 90%, and then 50%, and then 20%… We’d work ourselves down to, oh, only killing Undyne, or only killing Papyrus, or—” They looked straight at Asriel’s mother. “Toriel.” Zero smiled.

“Eventually, we made it! Saved the underground without a single fatality! And Asriel, you were stuck as a flower, but oh well, them’s the breaks. But, you see… Frisk and I still really loved killing, and monsters were way easier than humans, so…” Zero tried to shrug. “Old habits, you know? After a few… relapses, I figured I just needed a new Frisk to get my fix.”

“Wh—what happened to the old one?” Asriel asked.

“How should I know? Maybe they’re out there somewhere in the multiverse, figuring out how to kill humans on their own. Maybe they went and got themselves a goatee and became Evil Mirror Universe Frisk. Not my problem anymore. I just… vaulted across the dimensional barrier and ended up here!”

“And then you…” The truth was finally in Asriel’s reach. “You planted yourself into Chara’s body! Or, _our_ Chara!”

“Now he gets it.” Zero smacked their lips. “Yep. I’m the evil mirror universe Chara, and I took over your Chara because… well, to be honest, I wanted to see you again, Asriel.”

_“R-really?”_

“Well, kinda. You were the final boss battle, you know. I had to fight you, Asriel, and you know—all that time you spent as a flower really twisted you! I had no idea you had that kind of malice lurking inside you, brother… and I wanted to see if, maybe if I was a big enough asshole to you, I could bring that side of you out faster… and maybe things would play out differently on that day we died.”

Zero glared at Asriel again. “Spoiler alert: they didn’t!”

Asriel could hear Toriel sobbing from across the room. _“Chara… where did I go wrong?”_

Zero lost their temper. _“When you raised an insufferable goody-goody twerp as my brother!”_ they cut back. _“You—you, all of you, you and your whole family, pampered and privileged, content to huddle in your comfy little holes as the human race walked all over you!”_ Spit flew from Zero’s mouth. _“I’m almost sorry I freed your race!”_

In one violent motion, Asriel stomped on Zero’s head, grinding their face into the shattered floorboards. His fists shook. “Don’t you ever— _ever—_ talk to us like that again…”

 _“Asriel, stop…”_ Toriel’s voice was hoarse. _“They’re still… You’re still their brother…”_

“Right,” Zero drawled, “and siblings shouldn’t fight, should they? Anyway, I’m not done.”

Asriel gingerly lifted his foot and allowed Zero to crane their neck up. Dark red blood gushed from their nose.

“So, history repeated itself, and I was stuck with a new Frisk. A kinder, gentler Frisk. Perfect! The only problem was… I was _stuck_ with them! They were very, very strong-willed, and they had no interest in murder! Well…” Zero snuck another glance at Toriel. “They did have an interest in self-defense.

“I needed to take control of their body. I needed to force their mind out, and I knew just the kind of guilt-trip they needed. The little kid and their messiah complex… They never stood a chance against my psychological manipulation.” Zero laughed. “And that’s where _you_ re-entered the picture, Asriel.”

“That was why you tricked Frisk into giving their soul to me.”

Zero nodded. “Bingo. At first, I overshot it—gave you waaaay too much of Frisk’s soul. There was an overabundance of determination in your body, and—Hey, Alphys!” they called out. “You still awake back there? Mind telling us what happens to monsters when you give them too much—”

Undyne pressed down on Zero’s back. “Get on with it, and don’t harass my girlfriend.”

“Anyway, the first time, you melted into paste right there on the spot and I had to scoop you into a bucket and deliver you to your parents. Your mom and dad tried to make it work, but… it was really sad. You couldn’t leave your bucket, you had the consistency of spoiled milk… kinda smelled like it too…” Zero couldn’t help but chuckle. “I mean, I didn’t care a whit what happened to you. I stuck with that timeline for about three years, until… well, I found out something unpleasant.

“So it turns out when you’ve gone through as much as I have, you don’t have a normal soul anymore. I guess you could say all that timeline-hopping and murdering turned me into a demon. Frisk’s body couldn’t contain me anymore. I was rotting away from the inside, and all I could do was… reset.

“And I really thought to myself, was there a body in this world strong enough to contain my soul?” Zero looked straight at Asriel. “I thought about it for a really long time, and then I realized that there might be one.”

Asriel felt his throat go dry. Zero’s red eyes sparkled hypnotically. “It’s you, Asriel,” Zero said. “It was you all the time… You went through the same kind of nightmare I did… You were molded by the same forces… You braved the same winds…” There was a hungry look in Zero’s eyes Asriel had never seen before. They licked their lips, and a few flecks of drool spattered the splintered wood under their chin. “Your body, Asriel… is the perfect vessel for my spirit…”

“No… ” Asriel took a step back. “No, y-you… W-well, you can’t have it! I’d _never_ give my body up to you!”

Zero started to laugh. “No, no, Asriel, don’t you see? You already have!” They paused to catch their breath. “The nanomachines, Asriel… you knew the ones I planted in you were different, right, Asriel? Right? I don’t see you turning into a cloud and flying around like the other Revenants!”

Asriel couldn’t breath. “What were they…? They weren’t some kind of— _mind control?”_

Zero howled with laughter. “Oh, heavens no, Asriel! They just recorded your body—your whole body, right down to the DNA in every single cell—and copied it! Sent it off to our lab to make a copy!” Their laughter reached a fever pitch. “My nanomachines—they, they _faxed_ your body to me! Like a fax machine, get it?”

“No way…” Was it really possible? Did Zero have their own copy of Asriel’s body, and was it as strong as they claimed? All of Asriel’s powers… and all of Zero’s as well… Zero would be unstoppable if that were the case…

Undyne must have seen the terror on Asriel’s face. “Asriel.” She took her eye off of Zero, although she kept them pinned to the floor with her strong mechanical arm. “It sure doesn’t look like Zero’s uploaded themselves into their new body yet… and their old body’s dying, remember? As long as we hold them here, we’ve won.” The captain addressed Zero. “How much longer do you have, Zero? Weeks? Days? Minutes?”

Zero’s laughter subsided. “Do I look like I’m dying to you, Undyne?” Zero asked with a smile.

 _Come to think of it,_ Asriel thought, _they look… perfectly healthy. Undyne told me they had gray hair, and she could see their bones through their skin… And if they’re in Frisk’s body, then why do they look like Chara used to look…?_

“And I have another question for you,” Zero continued, grinning. “Why haven’t I stopped time and slaughtered you all already? For that matter, why haven’t I stopped time and freed myself from your grip? And how did I live through getting my neck snapped back there?”

_If they can’t do the things that Zero can do, maybe it’s because…_

Zero’s grin widened. “I’m not really Zero.”

Undyne’s eye bulged. _“What?”_

And then Zero disappeared, and Undyne’s open palm slammed into the floor. Asriel watched in horror as a cloud formed behind the captain.

 _“Undyne! Behind you!”_ Asriel drew his arm back as the cloud condensed into a thin, spindly ant-monster, their bulbous, segmented eyes gleaming in the dark. Asriel threw his spear as Undyne whirled around to face the attacker. They caught the spear in one of their four lanky arms and forced one of the remaining three through Undyne’s stomach. Asriel could see their segmented, chitinous claws piercing through her clothes, stained with midnight blue blood.

“F… Formickey…?”

Formickey drew his hand back, leaving a gaping wound in its wake. Everybody in the room rushed at him as Undyne fell to the ground. With a wave of his bloodied hand, a forest of burning blades—Asriel’s blades—skewered the five humans behind him as well as his former Misanthropy cohorts. Two skulls appeared on either side of the room and fired, bathing the room with intense white light and blowing out the entire half of the room, shattering the floor and ceiling and pulverizing the walls.

Asriel cut down the forest of blades in front of him as he leaped forward, driving Chara’s knife deep into Formickey’s segmented eye. The monster stumbled backward, and Asriel pushed forward, stabbing and stabbing, unaware of the primal roar tearing through his throat. He pushed Formickey, minus an eye, against one of the partisans the Revenant monster had used to impale his former cohorts, and the blade pierced Formickey’s neck, emerging from the front of his throat with a gush of tar-like black blood.

Chara’s knife fell out of Asriel’s hand and buried itself, blade-down, in the wood floor. Asriel looked around the room. Undyne was lying in the center, not moving— _but her body hadn’t turned to dust yet, so she could still be alive_ —and Papyrus, Alphys, and Toriel stood in the corner unharmed, protected by a fence of bones Papyrus had summoned at the last minute.

Asriel knelt beside Undyne. She was still breathing, but just barely. “Undyne… hang on…” She couldn’t die, not like this… Asriel couldn’t handle losing any more of his family today.

The others joined him. “Asriel, step aside,” said Toriel. “I may be able to heal the wound…” A soft lavender light, different from her flames, shone from her paws as she laid them on Undyne’s wound. “Doctor Alphys, stay here with me. Your presence will do the captain good.”

Asriel stormed toward Formickey. “What the hell, Formickey!? You were on _our_ side!”

Formickey let out a gurgling laugh. “Sorry, kid. When I said I wasn't really Zero, I wasn't telling the whole truth. I'm still Zero. Y’see, Formickey tried to swap brains with me to stop my evil plans. But as soon as they made contact… boom!” Formickey-Zero waved their four spindly arms. “Scrambled his brains. So I copied all my memories into him and made him my number two.”

“S-so the real Zero is…”

Formickey-Zero nodded. “Already in their new body. _And just waiting to see you…”_ They chuckled one last time before their body crumbled into dust.

The cold wind from outside howled through the gaping hole tearing through half of the living room, bringing with it a frigid barrage of snow and ice. There were only five of them left— hopefully, five, the pessimistic part of Asriel told him—and Zero would be stronger than ever. Asriel shivered, and not just from the cold. He’d always told himself he’d be the only one who could fight Zero… but deep down, he’d always hoped he’d have a few allies.

But now, in this bombed-out half of a living room, it was just him, and three of the dearest people in his life struggling to keep another one alive.

“I have closed the entrance wound and exit wound!” Toriel announced. Her paws were stained with Undyne’s blood. “She will likely survive the night.” Papyrus cheered at the announcement. “ But she needs real medical treatment. Papyrus, Alphys, you two must find a way to get her safely to solid ground.”

Papyrus smartly saluted. “We’re on it, Your Majesty!”

Toriel laid a bloody paw on Asriel’s shoulder. “Asriel… You know I do not want you fighting Zero. Or anyone, to be honest. At all. I do not want my only child playing such dangerous games.”

“I-I know, Mom.”

“When Zero told their story, I started to wonder if there was anything left of Chara... _our_ Chara... that could be made to see reason. That is what we must do.”

“Do you think that's possible?” Asriel swallowed hard.

“We may come to blows. Whatever happens, as much as I hate to admit it, I will need you by my side.”

He had wanted to fight alongside both of his parents and Undyne too… he didn’t feel he’d have a chance any other way. But he didn't want it to be like this. He could feel tears welling up in his good eye. “I... I-I love you, Mom.”

Toriel nodded and hugged him. “I love you too, son. And I will do whatever I can to make sure we can both tell each other that again in the morning, okay?”

“Okay.”

Asriel and his mother walked to the ruins of the courtyard and stood in front of the lozenge-shaped object planted in the ground. Fog billowed from the vents on the pod’s sides as the front cracked open and swung apart, and Zero stepped out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was informative! All of the cards are on the table now! Well... almost all of them.


	38. Absolute Zero, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, things end badly.
> 
> Content warning for gore and violence.

The thing inside the capsule—the thing that was now Zero—took its first halting steps onto the snowy terrain, gingerly lowering its snow-white paws onto the thin dusting of white powder that covered the dirt and rubble on the ground. It was naked aside from its coat of ivory fur but didn’t seem bothered at all by the cold. It sniffed the air and scanned the horizon with its mismatched eyes—one gold, one a milky white.

It looked exactly like Asriel. There was something very disconcerting to Asriel about seeing his own body reflected back at himself, and knowing that a horrible, murderous creature lived inside it.

Toriel looked back and forth from Zero to Asriel, and back again. “Before we had you, Asriel, I’d discussed having twins with your father…”

Zero looked down at themselves, idly gazing at their fingers. They grazed the horns at the top of their head—a few inches long (still short) but sharp, with a slight curve to them. They prodded the area around their sightless left eye, probing the outlines of their eye socket, then looked right at Asriel.

“Oh! Of course! Perfect clone.” Zero even had Asriel’s voice now. They snapped their fingers, loosing a small burst of golden flame that caught them by surprise. They stared, wide-eyed, at the sparks as they faded into the air. _“Whoa…”_

“Listen, er, Zero,” Toriel began, “I know you must be very pleased with your new… er, body… but I believe we can settle our differences peacefully—”

Zero put a finger to their lips and shushed her. “Gimme a moment, lady, I’m exploring my body.”

“Don’t explore my body in front of my mom!” Asriel cried, feeling a flush of both firsthand and secondhand embarrassment.

Zero prodded their abdomen. “Wow, not an ounce of fat. This body must require a lot of upkeep, right, Asriel?” They looked up. “Er, yes, I guess it is a little weird for you two. Sorry. There’s a lot going on here.”

Toriel pulled her cloak off of her shoulders and handed it to Zero. “Would you like something to wear, Z—”

Zero snatched the violet cloak out of her paw and wrapped it around themselves, fashioning it into a loose-hanging toga. “Thank you.” They smirked. “Mother.”

Toriel took a deep breath. “Zero. I would like to know… is there anything you like more than hurting and killing people?”

Zero cocked their head. “Excuse me?”

“Good food, a warm bed, a loving family to call your own…”

“No. Murder is more fun.” Zero looked down at their body again, wiggling their toes in the snow. “Hmm…”

“Zero, do you ever miss your old life? With your father and mother? And your brother, Asriel? D-do you… ever miss being Chara again?”

“Shut up. I’m thinking.”

“You are… considering my—”

“No.”

Asriel was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with hearing Zero’s words in his voice, coming out of his mouth. He felt more and more certain that his mother’s tactic to talk Zero down wouldn’t work.

Zero closed their eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled, letting a long cloud of steam pour from their muzzle and rise into the air. “The general idea of this body… is exactly what I’ve wanted all along. You know, Asriel, I’d look at you and see all the things I wished I had. Like claws, horns, big sharp teeth…”

Asriel was too uncomfortable to feel flattered.

“But there are a few things I’d change.” They held out their arms and breathed in and out again, their chest rising and falling. “I’m not fifteen, so I think I should look older.” They grew taller, their horns growing longer and curving along the curvature of their cranium. The robe, which had pooled around the ground, now hung down to their ankles. Zero was now about Toriel’s height, towering over Asriel.

“And I definitely shouldn’t have a fifteen-year-old’s voice, should I?” Their next words were an octave lower. “I mean, Asriel, can you imagine how embarrassing it’d be if my voice cracked during our climactic battle?”

“There is no need to fight—” Toriel tried to interject.

Zero’s eyes snapped open. Both of their irises were blood-red, and the whites of their eyes were jet-black. “No, Toriel, there is _every_ need to fight.” They blinked a few times, bemused. “Two eyes again, there we go. I hope you’re not too jealous, Azzy. But you’ve adjusted to the, uh, eye thing rather admirably, haven’t you?”

Asriel could feel a fire building up inside himself. He clenched his fists. He felt flames beneath his skin, trying to force their way through his pores.

“Now, now, Asriel, I thought you and your mom were going to go the pacifist route,” said Zero. “Or are you ready to fight me at long last?”

Asriel opened his fist and a jet of fire burst from his palm, freezing in place into a long blade. He crouched down into a combat stance.

Zero raised their palms. “Wait, hold up! I’m not done yet!” They closed their eyes, and the shape of their body changed ever so slightly. “There. Done,” they announced, with a note of pride.

Asriel squinted. “What did you do?”

Zero’s shoulders slumped. “You mean you don’t notice—” They cut themselves off. “Whatever. Point is, it’s _my_ body now. Maybe you’re a bit more comfortable now? Or can I get you some snacks?”

Toriel stepped in front of Asriel. “Child, do not give Zero the satisfaction of fighting them.”

“No, Asriel, _do_ give me the satisfaction! We’ve never had a proper fight!” Zero retorted.

“Zero, you do have all of Chara’s memories still. But,” Toriel said, boring her red eyes into theirs, “do you remember at all what it was like… _being_ them?”

Zero laughed. “How old was Chara when they died, Toriel?”

Toriel faltered. “T-they were twelve…”

“Twelve years. I was Chara for twelve years. And would you like to guess at how many years I spent as Zero? How many years went by for me as I lived and relived days over and over again?” They smiled. “And would you care to wager a guess… as to how many of those days I spent killing _you?”_

Asriel pushed Toriel aside and lunged at Zero, baring his blade and his teeth. _“Don’t you dare—”_

A burst of emerald-blue fire erupted from Zero’s open palm, congealing itself into a long, thick broadsword. Zero’s fingers wrapped around the sword’s hilt and with one swipe they parried Asriel’s fire blade. Golden flames met the deep aquamarine fire forming Zero’s blade, sending a flurry of multicolored sparks in the air to mingle with the falling snow. The force on Asriel’s arm was immeasurable, and as Zero’s blade carried through its swing Asriel was roughly shoved aside.

Asriel stumbled on the slick snow-covered ground and regained his footing. The fire he’d conjured died in his paw. Zero stood by, holding their broadsword aloft with a single hand as if it weighed nothing. Zero turned to face Asriel. “I’m sorry, Asriel, are you tired?” They smirked. “Do you need to take five?”

Asriel conjured his partisan, keeping a two-handed grip on the hilt. The golden flames roiling across the tip of the long blade cast a flickering glow around the ruined courtyard, bordering the eerie blue-green light cast by Zero’s fire. “No. We’re doing this.”

Zero pointed the tip of their blade at Asriel. The aquamarine firelight cast ghoulish shadows and highlights across their face. “Go ahead.”

“No, Asriel,” Toriel called out. “They are baiting you.” She took a few more steps toward Zero, reaching out to them. “Chara. End this nonsense. There is more to life than senseless slaughter. It is not too late for you…”

Zero cocked their head, a pensive look on their face as if they were actually considering Toriel's words. And, to Asriel’s astonishment, Zero lowered their broadsword, burying its blade in the ground and leaving it to stand on its own like a headstone.

“Chara, if you wish to be forgiven, we will all forgive you.” Toriel drew closer to Zero, laying one paw on their shoulder, and guiding theirs away from the hilt of their sword with the other. “I know you are not some irredeemable creature. Somewhere inside your heart is the child who, although they often had a funny way of showing it…”

Zero closed their eyes, a serene and peaceful smile on their face… and vanished. Toriel’s paws hovered over thin air. She and Asriel looked around, and her eyes met his. But her gaze continued past him, her eyes widening. _“Asriel, no…”_

Two hands gripped Asriel’s left arm, holding him in place as he tried to turn around. He turned his head upward and his eye met Zero’s.

Zero grinned, their mouth full of razor-sharp teeth, and with one fluid motion they snapped Asriel’s arm.

Asriel screamed. An agony like nothing he’d felt before washed over him. In his head, he could feel Zero laughing, the sound mingling with the crying of his nerves as he sunk to his knees. He clutched at his left arm where Zero had broken it, halfway down his forearm. His fur was slick with hot blood, and he could feel a jagged edge of bone poking out from the skin. He felt lightheaded. It seemed all of the light in the world—what little there was in the middle of the night—was going out.

Toriel had enveloped herself in a coat of violet flames and was running toward him. Asriel wanted to tell her to run away, but he couldn’t. Every sound but the ringing in his left ear had died away, but Asriel could tell from the vibrations in his throat that he was still screaming out in pain.

Zero shoved Asriel to the ground, and Asriel rolled onto his right side, cradling his left. Toriel drew back her fist—Asriel saw his mother actually throw a punch—but Zero was faster, and their fist slammed into her gut. The pale violet fire illuminating the world went out, and the only light remaining was from Zero’s sword, still half-buried in the ground.

_She’s dead, isn’t she?_

Zero tossed Toriel’s body aside. The body crumpled to the ground.

_I came here so this wouldn’t happen. Am I really so weak?_

Zero walked over to Toriel’s body and knelt over it. _Are they checking for a pulse?_

Asriel faded in and out of consciousness. It hurt to breathe. The next few minutes felt like an eternity. He lost count of how many times he blacked out from the pain.

“Relax, Asriel,” Zero announced. “Your mother’s alive.” They turned to Toriel. “And you, Toriel, can put your mind at ease. Your boy will live… for at least a few minutes more.”

Zero walked over to Asriel. He wanted to move, he wanted to get up and run away, keep his distance, figure out some way to counterattack. But he couldn’t.

Zero took Asriel’s broken arm and held it up, sending new tremors of pain across his body. “Now, this is really hard…” they mused. “You see, I can’t tell which would be more fun. Should I make your mother watch you die…”

Zero vanished and reappeared aside Toriel, their foot on her throat. “Or should I make _you_ watch your mother die?” They laughed. “Oh, but won’t Frisk love that! They can see everything you’re seeing, right, Asriel?”

_No…_

“Oh, Toriel, I bet you didn’t know this about Frisk. Your kind, sensitive, peaceful little prepubescent messiah… They only used their reset powers once. You know what they did that was so bad, they had to turn back time and erase it?”

_They’re going to tell her…_

“They killed you,” Zero said with a malevolent grin. “You cornered them at the door and tried to scare them away from leaving you with a little light show, and they picked up a knife and drove it right into your heart!”

Asriel willed himself to his feet. His left arm dangled at his side, limp and useless and dripping blood onto the dirty slurry of mud and snow covering the ground. _“Stop it.”_

“Frisk cried their eyes out. They didn’t mean it, of course, it was only an accident, they were so sorry.” Zero laughed. “But you know what? You can’t kill a monster with only one blow without a strong killing intent… _Frisk wouldn’t have killed you if they hadn’t really wanted to!”_

Asriel took a lurching step forward. _“Zero. Stop it.”_ His voice was weak; it didn’t carry far. Zero was too busy gloating to hear him.

“You monsters are such strange creatures. You’re so powerful… and yet it’s so, so easy to kill you…”

Toriel gurgled.

“What’s that? Do you have a rebuttal?” Zero took their foot off of Toriel’s throat.

 _“If we are so easy to kill,”_ Toriel whispered, _“why are we both still alive?”_

“Because it’s more fun this way,” Zero replied. But there was a tone of defensiveness in their voice. “Because torture is so much more fun than…”

Asriel felt like he knew where his mother’s train of thought led. But could it be true…?

_“Can you torture the eight billion people you aim to kill, Zero?”_

“Well—”

Asriel spoke up. “And why didn’t you kill Undyne when you had the chance?”

Zero turned to look at him, surprised. “Well, look who’s up…”

“She said you had a sword to her throat. And you spared her. And that wasn’t the first time you failed to kill her.”

“’Spared’? _‘Spared’?”_ Zero drew themselves up to their full height, their fur bristling. “I don’t ‘spare’! I saved her, yes… I saved her _for later!_ Like how you save the last pork chop for after you finish your broccoli!”

“And your double, who possessed a perfect copy of your mind,” Toriel added, rising to her knees and massaging her throat, “did not kill us, even when they slaughtered their former allies in the blink of an eye…”

“No…” Zero fell back, grabbing their sword and pulling it out of the ground, brandishing it like a torch. The flames left ghostly trails in the frigid air. “How dare you imply…!”

“…That you cannot kill us?”

“Is that ‘theory’ something you’d be willing to risk your life on?”

“We already have, Zero. And you have proven it correct. Now begone.” Toriel smiled, walked over to Asriel, and gently took his arm. _“Here, Asriel, let me take a look at this…”_

A violet glow illuminated Asriel’s broken arm. He caught a split-second glimpse of the churned-up, inside-out flesh, red and raw, and the yellowish spear of bone freed from its moorings before he squeezed his eye shut. The searing pain faded to a dull throbbing.

“I cannot mend the bone,” she told Asriel, “and if I close the wound, your arm may never heal properly. But I have dulled the pain and stopped the bleeding.”

“T-thanks, Mom.”

“We must get you to a hospital soon, though. It could become infected. You see why I do not want you fighting?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Have you finished having your little triage?” Zero growled.

“What will you do if we are not?” Toriel replied. “You cannot take our lives. It is just as I suspected.”

Zero held the tip of their flaming sword at Toriel’s throat. She didn’t even flinch. “I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve killed you.”

“Yes… but that was before you traveled to this universe, was it not? But now our Chara lives inside you… and a small part of Frisk, as well… and while you may not remember how you once loved us… _they_ still do. Both of them. Their love casts an unbreakable barrier around their dearest friends and family, Zero.”

Toriel had defeated Zero. And she had done it with words.

“And you could not kill Asgore on your own either,” Toriel added. “Although I cannot recall the details of his murder, I know it was not done by your hand. But now you have no subordinates to carry out your murderous goals.”

Zero’s sword wavered.

“Whatever plans you may have for our people, or for the human race, matter not. My son and I,” Toriel said, “are exempt. With a handicap like this… even an old cow such as myself can defeat you.”

Zero sank to their knees, the once-proud look in their eyes gone. Their mouth fell slightly agape, and their shoulders slumped.

“For the unspeakable horrors, you have visited upon my family… if you would show penance, I would forgive you. And perhaps even Asriel will one day forgive you. But if you refuse to repent…” Toriel reached out a paw toward Zero.

“Asriel…” Zero looked up and stared dead into Asriel’s eye. “It’s really been amazing, seeing you surpass yourself… Seeing you evolve from that cowardly little whelp, who’d cry at the drop of a hat, into _this…”_ They laughed. “You don’t let anything keep you from achieving your goals, do you? So why should I?”

Zero clutched at their chest with their free hand. Their claws sank into their flesh, and droplets of black blood leaked out.

 _“Chara…?”_ Toriel reached out toward Zero, and Asriel felt a strange sense of pressure emanating from Zero’s body—as if some malevolent aura was building up around them.

“Chara, Chara, _Chara!”_ Zero spat. _“If ‘Chara’ is my weakness…”_ they hissed, their claws sinking deeper into their chest, _“Then I will tear it out!”_

And Zero ripped their claws from their chest, trailing viscous black ooze from their wounds to their claws, with a shining red orb floating in the center of their palm, glittering as it cast a deep, bloody glow on Zero’s white fur. And they closed their fist, and the blood-red light was snuffed out.

“C-Chara, what have you done…?”

Soft laughter began to build up within Zero’s chest, building to a fever pitch. Their eyes glimmered with renewed zeal.

_“There is no more Chara…”_

Asriel brought out his partisan. “Mom—”

Toriel stumbled backward, her eyes wide. _“Asriel, run…”_

 _“The third and final death of Chara…”_ In an instant, Zero had gone from kneeling to standing. In another instant, a sword of green fire burned in their hand. Their movements were as if someone had taken a roll of film and deleted random frames—halting, unreal. _“Now there are no more barriers…”_

 _“Asriel, RUN!”_ Toriel barked. She grabbed Asriel by the arm and pushed him along, her paw at his back, guiding him away from Zero. _“Run, as far away as you can, and never look back—”_ She gave him one last shove and pulled away, leaving Asriel to stumble along on his own two feet.

Asriel looked over his shoulder and saw his mother falling behind. He’d never seen her so panicked—not even on the day he’d lost his eye. Asriel came to a halt as the gap between them widened. He couldn’t leave her behind…

Toriel flung out her arm. _“Asriel, keep going! I—”_

Zero’s sword burst out from her stomach. Toriel’s final words caught in her throat, and as the fire vanished from her eyes, she slumped over and fell to the ground.

Zero pulled the sword out and waved it mockingly at Asriel. “Look, ma, no inhibitions!”

“Zero—” Asriel’s voice faltered. “Y-you… You killed her…”

“Yes,” Zero said, examining their claws. “I’m not all talk anymore.” They bared their fangs. “I can bite as much as I bark now.” They stepped over Toriel’s body, closing the distance between themselves and Asriel.

Asriel gripped his partisan tighter.

“You’re not running.”

_If I run, who’s going to stop you?_

“Your late mother gave you an ample head start, you know.”

Asriel mustered all of his courage and took a step forward.

“Oh?” Zero cocked their head. “You’re doing a very bad job of being a dutiful son, you know. You’re getting very close… to Zero.”

“Yeah.” Asriel rallied all of his strength behind himself and stood tall in front of Zero. “And I’m about to get a lot closer… I won't ever run away again, as long as you still live, Zero.”

The firelight blazed around them, casting flickering and dancing shadows on the ruined ground. Either one of them was going to go home tonight… or neither of them would. Asriel would stake his life on that.

Zero's ruby-red eyes sparkled, and they laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEVER BE GAME OVER


	39. Absolute Zero, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, the tide turns. Several times.
> 
> Content warning for gore and violence.

“You’re really serious about this,” Zero mused with an air of astonishment as Asriel assumed a combat stance. “You’re _sure_ you don’t want to run?”

Asriel put his best foot forward, letting his left arm dangle behind him as he held his spear in front of him. Of course he wanted to run. But if he did, there would be nobody else to take his place. And then what had happened to his parents would happen to everybody.

“I’m going to send you to Hell, Zero.”

Zero laughed. “You’ve got guts, Asriel. So here’s how we’re going to do things. I’ll give you five minutes.” Then they held up their open paw. “For five whole minutes, I won’t stop time at all.” They curled in two fingers and their thumb, leaving only two fingers held up in a V-for-victory sign. “I predict you will last _two.”_

“You want an entertaining fight.”

Zero shrugged. “Yes, well, you see, once I’ve killed you, no one else on this planet will put up a fight. I should savor this moment.”

Zero’s sword and Asriel’s blade connected. The blade of Zero’s broadsword slid down, hitting Asriel’s crossguard and sending out a shower of sparks. Asriel pushed the sword back, gritting his teeth and putting all of his strength into his arm. It was hard to overpower Zero with only one arm, and Asriel could feel Zero gaining the upper hand in this struggle.

“And single-handedly, too—I’m impressed.” Zero knocked Asriel’s partisan aside and lunged forward. Asriel skipped out of the way, conjuring two jets of flame just beneath his feet and using them to propel him out of Zero’s path. He summoned two more partisans upon touching ground, letting them float alongside him, and launched him at Zero.

Zero swatted the partisans out of the air and came for Asriel, swinging downward with the mighty blade and cleaving the air in two. Steam and smoke from evaporated snow and burnt air left a ghostly trail in the blade’s wake. As Zero closed in on Asriel, the ground glowed yellow beneath the thin blanket of snow, and underneath their feet, a forest of golden partisans shot up from the ground. Zero swung the blade in a wide arc, clear-cutting the forest and leaving only burning stumps. But the surprise attack had put more distance between Zero and Asriel.

Asriel shortened the spear in his hand into a short sword, more easily wielded with a single hand. His left arm still throbbed where Zero had broken it. He hoped the arm would heal properly.

Zero brought their sword down on Asriel, and the prince parried with his. Reverberations from the clash of blades traveled up Asriel’s arm, shaking his bones. Asriel pushed the blade aside and charged into Zero, ramming his right shoulder into Zero’s chest and knocking the demon back. Zero stumbled and as their back arched backwards, a golden light glittered under the snow behind them. A partisan shot up from the snow in a column of steam, hitting Zero in the back. The force of the impact lifted Zero’s feet off of the ground as the blade pierced their skin. Zero hung, suspended in the air, their arms and legs dangling.

 _Was that… enough to kill them?_ Asriel crept forward, but kept his shortsword in front of him.

The sword fell from Zero’s grip and clattered to the ground. And then it floated in the air and cut down the polearm, allowing Zero’s body to fall. The sword came after Asriel next, floating in the air and slashing at him as if it were being wielded by an invisible man. Asriel doggedly parried every attack. The flashing blue-green arcs left by the emerald sword burned themselves into his eye.

The sword nipped at him, cutting a sliver of flesh from Asriel’s shoulder and instantly cauterizing the wound before any blood could flow from it. Asriel summoned two more partisans and locked them around the floating broadsword, interlocking the crossguards of all three weapons to immobilize it. The partisans trembled as the broadsword fought against its captivity.

Asriel looked around. Zero’s body had vanished. Of course—the floating sword had been an obvious distraction. Where had Zero gone to?

There was a rustling noise on his left. Asriel instinctively turned around and raised his blade, parrying another emerald blade that flew at him. The crossguard of the broadsword hit Asriel’s blade, kicking a shower of sparks into Asriel’s face. The broadsword’s blade swung downward, hitting Asriel on the shoulder as it spun off into the dark.

As Asriel stumbled backward, dazzled and blinded by the sparks and with an ache in his right shoulder, a fist slammed into his stomach, knocking him off of his feet. Bile spilled from his mouth as he hit the ground.

Asriel feebly raised his blade as Zero’s blade slammed down on it, driving his arm down and inching the flames closer to his face. He squeezed his eye shut, but could still see the fire through his eyelids. He forced Zero away and scrambled backward, keeping his sword out in front of him as he conjured a row of partisans to guard himself. He blinked away the dazzling spots in his eye.

“Not bad, Asriel! You’ve made it a minute!”

Asriel launched a partisan in the voice’s direction and heard a clang as the blade was batted away, followed by laughter. Asriel rushed toward the sound, summoning five blades in front of him and pushing forward. His vision cleared and he could see the blades close in on Zero. Zero dodged each one, but left themselves wide open for the blade in Asriel’s hand. Asriel closed in and rammed the blade into Zero’s stomach. Smoke poured from the wound as the heat of the flaming blade charred Zero’s insides.

Asriel yanked the blade out and Zero stumbled backward, staring at the blackened hole in their abdomen with utter bemusement, their eyes wide and unfocused.

Asriel drew the blade back and stabbed at Zero a second time, this time getting them in the chest. He hated to admit it, but it felt good.

Zero coughed. “Well, you’ve beaten me fair and square. And I stuck to my word—not once did I ever stop time.” They laughed. “How about that, Asriel? A thing like me, dying with honor.” They flopped their arms and legs. “Don’t stick around for my dying breath.” They coughed weakly. “Go meet up with your friends. Tell ‘em you saved the day. Tell ‘em you’re a real hero. You’ve earned it…”

Their body went limp.

Asriel scanned the area. No green fire—that meant Zero didn’t have any independent swords floating around. Even the one he’d trapped had disappeared.

Was Zero dead, or just waiting for Asriel to turn his back on the body? Asriel crept toward the body, held out his sword, and laid the blade across Zero’s throat. He felt like Van Helsing about to drive a stake through Count Dracula’s heart. His hand trembled as he pressed down, and he could see smoke curl from Zero’s fur as it blackened under the heat of the golden flames.

_This is the end, Zero. Your days of killing and spreading terror are over._

Zero’s eyes were still open. They gazed blankly ahead, but Asriel couldn’t help but feel they were staring at him. Asriel stuck his sword in the ground, pulled Zero’s eyelids closed, and then grabbed the blade again, lifting it into the air and preparing to stab downward with all of his strength.

_“Hey. Look over here.”_

The voice was coming from behind him. Asriel turned his head so he could glance backward and saw a large, wolfish skull staring him down, with foggy light pouring from its skeletal muzzle.

_“Look at me.”_

One of Formickey’s blasters. Asriel picked himself up and dove out of the way as the skull let loose a beam of searing light, incinerating everything in its path before hitting the wall of the castle and throwing pulverized stone into the air.

Asriel ran after the blaster, trying to stay out of its line of fire, while the skull danced just out of reach. He glanced to his side and saw that Zero’s body had once again vanished. It must have been Formickey-Zero, playing possum.

Asriel lashed out at the blaster and, at the last second, doubled the length of the shortsword, impaling the skull right between its eyes. The light built up in its mouth as it prepared to fire. Asriel shortened the blade, pulling the skull toward him, and let the sword vanish. He grabbed the skull, knowing it could fire at any second, and aimed it away from him just as it began to fire. The beam of light cut through the darkness, lighting up the area as if it were broad daylight for just a few seconds. And then it was dark again. Asriel threw the skull to the ground and heard it shatter.

Asriel rubbed his eye. The burst of light, and the subsequent return to the pitch-black darkness of this late night had temporarily blinded him. As his eye re-adjusted to the darkness, he brought back his shortsword and held it in front of him.

 _“Two and a half minutes,”_ a voice whispered in his ear, and Asriel whirled around and threw up his blade, parrying another attack from Zero. Asriel held his distance from Zero as his sight returned.

There was Zero, in front of him, and at their side… another Zero.

Two of them. And Asriel still only had one arm.

“Let me guess,” one of the Zeroes said, “you don’t think this is fair.”

The other Zero spoke up. “Well, you definitely won’t think what happens next will be fair…”

And the darkness around Asriel lit up with skulls. His gut sank.

“You lasted almost three minutes. But, sorry, Asriel, the fight ends here.”

“And just so you know, since I removed what was left of Chara from my soul, I can say with absolute honesty… _It’s nothing personal.”_

Both Zeroes grinned as the darkness around Asriel lit up.

Asriel called upon all of his power and cloaked himself in golden flames. He’d seen his mother swat away the lasers from these blasters, but he wasn’t sure if he could protect himself from so many at once. All he could do was summon as much strength as he could and hope for the best…

Asriel kept his fire shield at full strength and hoped he could take the hits. He ran toward the Zeroes, still wreathed in flame, and felt the blasts hit him through the armor. Both Zeroes seemed taken aback by Asriel’s bravado, and seemed almost frightened of Asriel’s golden aura.

Asriel punched one Zero in the face. The Zero disappeared—this was the nanomachine body double. The other Zero kept their distance. Another skull appeared in between Asriel and Zero and fired immediately.

The laser punched through Asriel’s fire armor, hitting him in the chest. Asriel felt a new blossom of pain as he stumbled backward. His armor flickered as the skull pressed onward, preparing to fire again. Asriel clutched at his chest and found a bundle of thorny vines stretched across it—he’d unconsciously tapped into that side of him to protect himself.

Asriel held out his hand and a golden vine shot out from his wrist at the skull, tearing through its cranium. The skull shattered, and the vine kept going until it buried itself in the ground. The vine contracted, pulling Asriel along as its length shortened and carrying him far out of danger.

Asriel skidded across the ground until he came to a stop. Zero and their doppelganger were a few dozen yards away from him, giving him time to catch his breath.

He’d known he was in for a tough fight, but he hadn’t anticipated this… and Zero wasn’t even stopping time. Asriel sucked the frigid air into his lungs and tried to calm himself. He wished he wasn’t alone. If only Zero had discovered good sportsmanship a few minutes earlier…

He had to think of a way to beat Zero. There had to be something he could do to overpower them.

Or, Asriel realized… to _under_ power them. They’d seemed to be afraid when he’d covered himself in golden fire—because they’d mistaken it for his soul ability. The same ability that had stripped them of their ability to reset! If Asriel could get close to Zero—the _right_ Zero—he could take away their ability to stop time as well! And although it would grant them an even stronger power, they would be momentarily weakened. It was just the opportunity Asriel needed.

Asriel called on the power of his golden soul and ran toward the Zeroes. He could use his vines to restrain them—the _real_ one, anyway. The doppelganger could slip through his clutches, but he didn’t need to capture them.

Zero summoned a trio of emerald blades and threw them at Asriel. Asriel ducked under them, then rolled to the side as a flurry of fiery blades burst from the ground and flew high into the air. Asriel grabbed Zero and vines flew from his fingertips, immobilizing them… and then they vanished. Wrong Zero.

Asriel headed toward the next one as the swords Zero had shot into the air began to hit the ground. He tried to avoid as many as he could, but one cut a shallow gash down his back. Asriel stumbled forward and tripped, falling on his broken arm. The dull, throbbing pain turned into a screaming pain, and Asriel fought back tears as he rolled onto his back and pulled himself back up.

Zero was waiting for him when Asriel got back up. They drew back their fist and drove it into Asriel’s face. Asriel felt—and heard—something crack. As Asriel fell back, Zero grabbed him by the throat and, with their free hand, hit them in the stomach.

Asriel fell on his back, and Zero raised their foot and brought it down on him. Asriel felt at least one rib snap. Blood was filling his mouth. But he held onto his _aura regia_. If he could just get a hit on Zero… but so much of his body hurt, and it was so hard to move…

Zero held up their wrist as if looking at a watch. “Oh, would you look at that. Your five minutes are up.” They shrugged. “Don’t feel too bad, Asriel. You lasted three minutes longer than I thought you would. Don’t worry—you won’t feel a thing.”

Asriel staggered to his feet and started to run. He raised his arm, ignoring the searing pain in his chest and arms, and tried to shoot a vine out that he could anchor onto one of the windows of the castle’s walls. It was irrational, but maybe if he put enough distance between himself and Zero before time stopped…

Time stopped.

The snowflakes gently spiraling to the ground all stopped, hanging motionless in midair. But Asriel could see time stop. He could still feel every ache and pain in his body. Could he move as well?

Zero walked toward him. “Nice try, Asriel,” they said, even though (as far as they knew) he couldn’t hear them. “Unfortunately,” they went on, conjuring their blue-green flame sword, “you’re going to die with that stupid look on your face.”

The air felt heavy. Asriel was holding his breath. He didn’t even know if he _could_ move his body enough to take a breath. Zero was closing in on him. If he could just shoot his vine, though, he could swoop out of the way, put some distance between himself and Zero, and make another plan…

Zero raised their sword, and at that moment, Asriel’s vine shot from his wrist and pulled him away. Time resumed the instant Asriel’s feet left the ground and Zero’s blade swung down. The snow flew against his face. Asriel crashed through the window and landed, unceremoniously, on a cracked and splintered wood floor.

Asriel picked himself up and stumbled across the room. There was broken glass everywhere from the shattered window. He tried his best to avoid it and staggered into the hall. The floor sagged beneath his feet. The castle was in shambles.

 _“Oh, Asriel…”_ Zero sang from downstairs. _“Where are you…?”_

Did Zero know that Asriel could move during the stopped time? Or had Asriel’s movements been close enough to the point when time resumed that Zero hadn’t noticed? If Zero knew that Asriel was immune to the stopped time, they wouldn’t use that ability anymore—which may or may not improve Asriel’s chances of beating them. But if they _didn’t_ know… Asriel could mount a surprise attack.

Asriel made his way to the stairs, steeled himself, and prepared to rush Zero. If Zero stopped time, he’d be able to land a hit on them. If they didn’t… Asriel was probably going to bite it.

Asriel drew his fist back and leaped down the stairs, loosing a battlecry with all the strength he could muster. The ceiling shook and began to fall, chunks of stone and masonry plummeting to the ground as it caved inward. Zero, at the foot of the stairs, immediately saw him coming. They smiled. They were going to stop time—Asriel knew it!

The debris falling from the ceiling hung in the air. Zero’s grin quickly faded when they realized that while everything else had stopped—Asriel was still barreling down on him. They drew their sword, but it was too late. Asriel’s fist collided with Zero's face, his knuckles digging into their muzzle. In the silent realm of frozen time, the only sound that carried through the air was the crack of bones fracturing beneath Zero’s skin as Asriel’s fist grazed the length of their snout and drove into their eye socket, then up into their forehead.

The rest of Asriel’s body hit Zero next, and the two of them slammed into the wooden floorboards. The boards buckled and snapped beneath their combined weight, sending splinters into the air, where they hung motionless, captured in Zero’s world of stopped time. The two of them fell into the basement, Zero’s body hitting the stone floor. Asriel’s knee dug into Zero’s stomach as they collided with the floor, driving breath, blood, and bile out of Zero’s mouth.

Time resumed, and the rest of the ceiling—two ceilings—fell apart above Asriel and Zero, raining down debris onto the cobblestone floor.

Asriel pulled himself off of Zero, gathered his strength, and plunged his paw into Zero’s chest, reaching for their very soul.

He could see it against the darkness in his mind’s eye, a glowing red orb pulsating in a field of vast emptiness. He could feel Zero’s power—the power to stop time—and as his fingers clasped the orb, enveloping it with a golden light, he could feel that power fading away.

Asriel could hear Zero’s voice blaring in his head, as if they’d pressed a megaphone into his ear, but he kept going.

_N͠O̸̵_

_NO҉̛ ͜͡A̴SRI̵̢̡ȨL̨_

_W̘͖̥͚͇͕̮̌͗̓̅Ḧ́͑̈́ͫA͍̯ͤͫ͗̌ͨT́̉̎ͧͯͩ ̵̬̘̦͐̑ͥA͓͇͛R͢E ̦̣̜͎̙Y̜͕̍͗͗́̍O̧̼̬̩̬͉͕͓͋̐Ụ͔̠̩ͮ͌ͧͭͥ̍̈ͅͅ ̖͉̱͓͈̔̉͂ͅD̞̞ͬͦ̈O̤̤̺ͤ͋ͤ̊͞I̹̭̹̅̌N̲͈̺̼̖͆ͪG̤͇̫̍̈́͐ͧ̎̏̔_

_S̸̅͑̓͊ͦ͌͡T͒̓͒̐̔̔̂O̵̴̿̇ͩͧ̆ͯ̿͌ͯ͢P̴ͨͥ̓̐_

_S̶͛̍̈̃͐̇ͬ̈ͮ̓͝͏͠T̔̊́͋̔͆̑͆͊ͦ̐̽͛̚̕̕O̶̐̒ͣ͛͂ͨ̾̽̓̈́̉ͥ̎͜͟Ö̴ͨ̾̈ͭ̈́͐͢Ö̶́̊̉ͮ̂͑͂̉ͥͧ̾̅̅͟͡O̢̾͊ͬ͛͢͞͡Oͭ̒̊̎̓̂̽ͤ̏̔̽̔̇ͦ͆̔͐̚͘͟Ǫͦ̅̅͐̒ͧͤ̽̓ͪ̇͛̈́̚͞O̷̷ͬ̒̇́͌́̋ͯ͢͝O͌̌̎͛ͯͧ͌͗ͣ̋̓͊̎̇͢Ǫ̐͐ͭ̏ͥ͊̾̒̃̉̅̾ͤ̆҉P̀͌̿ͮ̚͏̢͟͜҉_

Asriel clenched his fist and felt the soul crack. A hairline fracture formed in the orb. Zero screamed, not only in his head, but in the outside world as well, jolting Asriel out of the mental plane and back to the physical world.

Asriel staggered back as Zero climbed to their knees. Black blood dripped from Zero's mouth. _“Asriel Dreemurr…”_ they growled. Zero vomited black blood onto the cobblestones as a shower of plaster covered them in a ghostly gray-white coat. _“Asr̕ie̢l̴ Dre̸emurr̨…”_ They stood up, wobbling, unsteady on their two feet. _“A̴͞SR͏I͞Ę̴̶L!҉ D̵̴̨R̡E̸̡EM͘U̢R̛R!̧͝!!”_

Zero charged at Asriel, head lowered, slamming into his chest with their horns. Asriel hit the wall as Zero bore down on him, drawing back their fist and driving it again and again into the prince’s stomach. With every hit Asriel felt the world around him grow darker and colder.

 _“You think you’ve won!?”_ Zero shouted. They drove their knee into Asriel’s stomach, forcing him to double over.

 _“I don’t need to stop time to kill a wretch like you!”_ Zero’s elbow slammed into Asriel’s spine, knocking him to the floor.

 _“The only reason you tried to learn how to fight in the first place,”_ Zero continued, stomping on Asriel’s back, _“is because of me! I made you! Do you know how easy it would be for me to unmake you!?”_

Asriel tried to crawl out from under Zero, but it was hopeless. He could barely move, and Zero seemed just as full of energy as ever. As his body slowed and came to a halt, Asriel realized that while Zero could no longer freeze time, it was as if time had stopped yet again.

Zero held their sword aloft, ready to kill Asriel on the spot. “You may have taken away my time stop… but in the end, my friend, everything comes back down to Zero. Why don’t you cry for me again, Asriel?” they taunted. “Just like old times? One more trip to the waterworks before I end your pathetic excuse for a life…”

_“Excuse me.”_

The voice came from above. It sounded familiar… but it couldn’t be. Asriel had seen Zero kill her…

Asriel rolled onto his back. Standing above the basement, tall amid the falling debris, was the Queen of All Monsters, Toriel Dreemurr. She gave Zero an icy glare as she clutched the cauterized wound in her abdomen.

 _“Unless these old ears have failed me,”_ Toriel continued, _“You have just admitted that you can no longer stop time.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not over yet!


	40. Kingdom of Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> STANDING HERE I REALIZE YOU WERE JUST LIKE ME, TRYING TO MAKE HISTORY  
> BUT WHO'S TO JUDGE THE RIGHT FROM WRONG  
> WHEN OUR GUARD IS DOWN I THINK WE'LL BOTH AGREE  
> THAT VIOLENCE BREEDS VIOLENCE  
> [BUT IN THE END IT HAS TO BE THIS WAY](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-b-7tP7IW5Q)
> 
>  
> 
> [Alternate background music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wOMW40wxHTk)

Zero looked up at Toriel. “So what?” they asked, positioning their upraised foot over Asriel’s throat. “So what if I can’t stop time anymore? What are you going to do to me?”

There was no way Asriel’s mother could fight Zero. She shouldn’t even be _alive._

 _I saw her die… How is she alive? Is it…_ determination?

But if she could distract Zero long enough, maybe Asriel could muster some strength…

He could barely even wriggle his fingers. But there had to be something he could do, even if he couldn’t move his body. Asriel figured his body couldn’t possibly hurt more than it already did, so he planted a spear right beneath his left armpit. With his chest and left arm obscuring the golden circle on the floor, Zero might not notice until he fired the spear. And by then, they’d have not the time to dodge.

Toriel's voice was icy. “Step away from my son.”

“Make me.”

“I will.”

“You and whose army?”

Asriel forced his voice into his throat. _“Zero,”_ he whispered.

Zero looked down at him and sneered. “What do you—”

Asriel fired the spear. The crossguard tore through his left shoulder and ignited his sleeve on its way up, and as the blade kept going, it cut a deep gash up Zero’s torso. The blade pierced their muzzle and passed all the way through Zero’s mouth, its tip exiting the bridge of Zero’s snout. They howled in agony as the burning blade seared their flesh, their fingers scrabbling at the spear shaft.

The impact from the blade lifted the left side of Asriel’s body like a ragdoll, throwing his limp and useless left arm into the air.

Asriel couldn’t move his body. But the vines he had weren’t part of his body, were they? He shot one from his wrist and hoped it would connect with something stable and drag him to safety.

It worked. He felt his back lift off of the floor as his body flew into the air. His arm felt as though it was being yanked out of its socket, and he was half afraid he’d tear it off completely in transit.

Toriel grabbed him as Asriel sailed by her, wrapping her arms around him, and the two of them skidded to a stop on the other side of the ruined foyer.

Toriel laid Asriel on the floor. “I am so sorry I did not show up sooner,” she told him. “My word, Asriel, you look like a mess.”

 _“I feel like a mess,”_ Asriel groaned. “A mess” was an understatement.

Toriel used her magic to dull the pain. “I can heal some of the simpler wounds, but… to be honest, I am spent. I am glad you thought of something, as risky and, er… self-destructive as it was. Zero would have certainly called my bluff.” She helped Asriel sit up. “I must admit, I do not know how we will get out of this.”

“Hold on. I’ve got an idea.” Asriel conjured some more vines, wrapping them around his broken arm and tying a makeshift splint around it.

“Asriel, careful, if you do that improperly—”

“I’ll ask Alphys to make me a prosthetic, like what Undyne has now.”

Toriel pursed her lips. “Asriel, if you keep going like this, you’ll be nothing but a brain in a jar.”

Asriel gritted his teeth as a jolt of pain shot up his arm. “As long as my cyborg body has rocket launchers, I’m fine with that.” He let the vines wrap around his legs, his other arm, his torso. “I can move these vines a lot easier than my body… so I’m gonna let them do all my fighting for me.”

Toriel nodded. “Loath as I am to admit it, that is very clever, Asriel.” Asriel stood up on vine-augmented legs. It was a stopgap solution, but it worked. “Would that you applied yourself like this outside of combat…”

Zero walked up the basement steps and rounded the corner of the staircase. They’d pulled out Asriel’s partisan and now held it in a death grip in their right hand. An ugly charred-black hole marred their snout and the bottom of their jaw, and tar-like black ichor oozed from the laceration running up their abdomen and chest.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you, Asriel?” Zero growled.

Asriel felt his knees buckle. _Dammit—the vines aren’t enough._ He let himself fall to his knees. _But maybe I can make this work for me…_

Zero brandished Asriel’s partisan, a wide grin splitting their charred muzzle. “If you’re into bondage, I’ll happily oblige you in your final moments.”

Asriel sent a cluster of vines under what was left of the floor, spreading them across the undersides of the splintered and battered wooden floorboards. He hoped Zero wouldn’t notice. “Try me,” he told Zero.

Zero thrust the partisan blade at Asriel. But they’d forgotten that it was Asriel’s weapon. He had created it, and he could just as easily will it out of existence.

The polearm vanished from Zero’s grip. Zero stumbled forward as vines shot out from the floorboards, hauling Zero into the air and holding their limbs akimbo. They hovered in the air like a parade balloon on Thanksgiving.

Asriel stood up, triumphant. “It’s over, Zero.”

And then the second Zero barreled into him, pinning him against the cracked and crumbling wall. Asriel had forgotten all about Zero’s body double.

Zero-Two brought their fist down on Asriel, but Asriel blocked it with a shield of interwoven vines. Asriel spread his vines through the wall, too, and shot two grappling vines out from the peeling wallpaper (sunflowers—how appropriate) that wrapped themselves along the second Zero’s shoulders and threw them off.

The original Zero was still struggling overhead. Asriel pulled the vines tighter—it was so easy to control them, even when there were so many, just as easy as wiggling his fingers—until he heard the four audible pops of Zero’s limbs dislocating. He let the demon fall to the floor in a crumpled heap, then turned to the body double.

Zero-Two summoned a pack of skull blasters. Asriel’s body on his own wasn’t agile enough to avoid the searing beams, but with the vines supporting his body, each blast sailed past him.

Asriel closed in on Zero-Two, throwing a punch with far greater strength than his fist on its own could provide. Zero-Two dissipated into smoke and reappeared behind Asriel.

They’d been hiding a skull behind them. And as soon as Zero-Two had changed positions, it fired.

Asriel threw out his hand, created a blossom of flame, and the beam hit it and fractured. Some of the blast made it through, and his arm paid for it.

More skulls circled him. He had to get rid of Zero-Two. But how? From everything he’d seen, these Revenants seemed utterly indestructible—whenever they’d seemed to die, they’d pop up again later.

There had to be some limit to what Zero-Two’s nanomachines could take, though. If he kept pushing them past their limit…

_More fire. I need more fire._

And despite the state of his body, fire was something Asriel had never been short on.

He burst into flames, fought his way past the skull blasters, and hit Zero-Two. The doppelganger Zero turned to dust immediately, and Asriel’s punch went right through them.

The cloud of nanomachine cells making up Zero-Two surrounded Asriel—just as Asriel had hoped.

The fire grew larger, hotter, and brighter. He couldn’t let a single particle escape, and he had to keep burning. The splintered floorboards under his feet burst into flames.

He saw Zero-Two try to reform through the flickering yellow-gold fire. He pressed on, closing in, grabbed the body double by the shoulder. Their body was soft and insubstantial; the nanomachines were having trouble fitting together. He forced Zero-Two to the floor and their particles scattered in the inferno.

Zero-Two reformed and ran. Asriel went after them; he caught up. He threw one more punch at the back of their head; they turned their head to look and Asriel’s fist collided with Zero-Two’s snout.

The doppelganger’s head shattered like a fragile vase, bursting into irregular fragments. There was nothing on the inside—just a hollow shell. Asriel had destroyed so many nanomachines that the most Zero’s body double could muster was a thin facsimile of skin and fur and cloth.

The rest of Zero-Two’s body shattered as it hit the smoldering floor. Fragments scattered and bounced across the floor, some falling into the basement.

_Was that enough?_

_“Zero-Two! To me!”_ the original Zero shouted.

Asriel watched the fragments turn to dust once more and flock to Zero’s prone body. He flared up, but it was too late. The particles gathered over Zero’s limbs, and four audible pops were heard as they pushed Zero’s limbs back into place. Zero made a noise somewhere in between a maniacal laugh and a scream of agony, and the particles flowed across their body, forming a matte black armor covering their chest, forearms, and legs.

Zero rose to their feet. “I’m impressed, Asriel. Your resourcefulness knows no limits.” They crossed their arms. “How much of it is desperation?”

_How much more fight does Zero have left in them? This guy’s like a video game enemy with a million HP bars…_

“Me, though…” Zero continued, “I never had any need for that. You see, while you’ve given me more than my fair share of setbacks, I knew I’d end up winning eventually. You see, Asriel, there’s one fact I omitted in my little story.”

 _A fact they omitted?_ Asriel felt his shoulders fall. _What more could they have up their sleeves?_

“How did I travel between universes in the first place, Asriel? Who created the door that brought me to your humble little slice of the multiverse? It’s one question I didn’t quite know the answer to… until I created this new body of mine.”

Zero’s red eyes sparkled as they grinned, baring their fangs and thumping their fist on their chest. “I was shown the way into your universe, Asriel, by a creature that looked… _just… like… this!”_

“N-no… no way…” Asriel couldn’t believe it. That meant…

Zero wagged their finger in front of Asriel. “That’s right, Asriel. Just how you gave me my time stop—my Absolute Zero—when you sealed away my reset ability… You, Asriel, have granted me the power to cross the barrier between universes! You… Asriel, my ever-unwilling accomplice… _You have created Zero’s Heaven!”_

Asriel balled his fist. The burn on his palm stung. How could he have been so stupid…? He'd done exactly what Zero had wanted him to do!

Zero saw the look on his face and rolled their eyes. “Oh, what are you going to do about it? You can barely stand on your own. Besides… if you stop me from helping my past self cross over, you’ll be creating a time paradox.” They smirked. “Par-a-dox. You know what _that_ is, right, Asriel? I’m such an integral part of this universe now… who knows what might happen if you break the loop. Maybe you’ll destroy the universe— maybe even all of reality!”

Zero walked toward Asriel. He couldn’t move. Zero reached out and, with an uncharacteristic gentle touch, laid their fingers on Asriel’s cheek. “You tried so hard… and got so far… but this is the end. In this world, and in all worlds… everything goes to Zero in the end.”

Asriel couldn’t stop shaking. Was this everything he’d fought for? Just to give Zero their ultimate trump card?

“Can you see it this time?” Zero asked Asriel, their voice hushed and reverent. They pointed over Asriel’s shoulder as their gaze drifted away from him. “The door?”

Asriel turned around and looked out into the night.

There, standing in the snowy wasteland, was a disembodied door. The door was simple, dark wood, with a burnished brass knob. No adornments or ornaments—it was simply a door standing in thin air, leading nowhere.

 _“You can see it, can’t you?”_ Zero asked.

Asriel nodded.

Zero walked past him. “See you later,” they said. “When I finish up this time loop, I’ll come back and kill you and everything else on this planet.”

“W-why not now?” Asriel wondered if he could stall Zero long enough to keep them from entering the door. Even if it did cause a time paradox, could it really be as bad as Zero said? If he stopped the original Zero from entering this universe in the past, everything they’d done to the world—to his life, and the lives of everyone else—would be undone.

If he could stop Zero from entering that door—he could save everyone. Chara, Frisk, Asgore… and himself.

Asriel spoke louder. “Why don’t you kill us now, Zero, and save yourself the trouble later?”

Zero looked back. “After what you’ve done to me, I’d like to let you stew in your misery for a few minutes.”

The ground shook, and Asriel remembered that the patch of land they were standing on had been slowly crashing to the ground. If they hit the ground, the crash could kill them all—without Zero completing the loop. And the whole timeline would return to normal.

All he had to do was stall for time.

Asriel started running at Zero. Zero made a break for the door. He had to put something in Zero’s way… but he’d never catch up on his own. Even with the vines pumping his legs for him, he could still feel every muscle, sinew, and ligament beneath his skin wearing out. He was pushing himself too hard.

If he could create a sword out of fire, though… If he could create armor out of fire… What else could Asriel create?

The ground started to tilt. Asriel struggled to run uphill. Rocks and rubble and strewn-about chunks of masonry from the ruined castle tumbled down the sloping ground. Asriel threw a fireball. It sailed over Zero’s head.

Zero laughed. “You missed!”

_“I wasn’t aiming for you!”_

Asriel’s fireball sailed in an arc, hitting the ground in front of Zero, and unfolded, growing arms, legs, a head…

A copy of Asriel, built out of fire, stood in front of Zero. Every line of Asriel’s face, down to the eyepatch, traced itself in flickering flames on the fire copy. Two arms, two legs—more agile and dexterous than the real deal was at this point.

Zero brought out their own emerald-aquamarine sword as the ground continued to shake and twist. Asriel dug himself into the frigid, churned-up mud with his vines, grabbing hold of the solid earth below. The door loomed ahead as Zero fought their way past the fire clone.

Asriel’s clone parried every one of Zero’s blows, matching them for speed and strength, but Asriel could see that the clone was falling back as Zero pushed forward. So Asriel made more clones. He had fire to spare. Concentrating on all of their movements individually was hard, but he could do it. He had no choice but to push himself. A line of blood trickled out from his nose. A second and a third and a fourth popped up, forcing Zero back. They summoned a pack of skull blasters, but the blasters were easily dispatched by Asriel’s clones.

Zero’s back was to Asriel as the clones occupied all of their attention. The armor covering part of their back was so black that it vanished into the night. But the uncovered part of Zero’s back gleamed by comparison. A perfect target.

One of the clones faltered as Asriel lost his train of thought, and Zero pushed past it. Asriel was going to lose them if he didn’t act first.

He raised one hand, drew back a partisan like a javelin—the slope of the ground was deepening, the vines he’d dug in the dirt were starting to go taut—the Core must be tipping over. Would it fall all the way on its side?

Asriel threw the javelin. It hit Zero square in the back and stuck there. Zero staggered, stumbled, and fell. They fell right toward Asriel.

Asriel summoned another partisan blade and held it in front of him as Zero tumbled down the ever-deepening slope.

The blade buried itself up to its hilt into Zero’s gut. Zero’s eyes widened as Asriel’s blade skewered them. _“You bastard,”_ they snarled.

 _“I don’t care what happens to this universe,”_ Asriel gasped as he panted for breath, _“as long as you’re not a part of it, Zero.”_

Black ichor pooled in Zero’s mouth, leaking out of the hole Asriel had put in their jaw and flying into the freezing wind. The gusts of wind buffeting the falling piece of land they were fighting on were growing stronger and stronger as the Core continued its descent.

 _“You, Asriel… are brutal.”_ Zero laughed even as they choked on their black blood. _“In another world, you could’ve been… me.”_

Asriel tried to quell his shivering. Zero was right. If things had gone differently… he could have become the death-obsessed demon Chara had become. For a while, he had been just like Zero. But with his own strength and the help of his friends _…_ from people like Frisk, and Undyne _…_ he had conquered that side of him. _“I… chose… not to be…”_ he gasped through gritted teeth. _“This spear, Zero… isn't just a tool for murder. My spear… is A SPEAR OF JUSTICE!”_

His grip wavered. He could drop Zero and let them fall to their death… but if he let go of the blade he’d skewered them on, they might find some way to reach the door on their own.

“Justice, eh?” Zero craned their neck upward. “Sorry, I’ve got places to be…” And two jets of emerald-green fire shot out from the soles of their feet, forcing Zero up. Asriel could see his blade inching its way out of Zero’s gut. They were going to escape!

 _“No!”_ Asriel let go of the ground. Zero rose higher, unfettered, but Asriel could use the same trick they were using to pursue him. With a burst of fire behind him, Asriel forced his way up.

He gained on Zero. He was faster than them! Asriel reached out and grabbed hold of Zero’s ankle. But the door was coming up. And they went through.

Both of them.

Everything went dark. The only light came from the jets of gold and green fire Asriel and Zero had been using to propel themselves.

There was no solid ground, no landmarks or milestones. Asriel felt weightless; it seemed like he and Zero had been teleported to deep space, on the other side of the universe.

Zero plucked the partisan from their stomach and cast it aside. It floated away, twirling aimlessly in the vast emptiness until it vanished from sight. They were laughing. _“I did it! I did it!”_ they crowed. They waved their fingers at Asriel. _“_ Nice try, but not good enough, _brother!”_

Asriel was still holding onto Zero’s ankle. Zero hadn’t reached their past self; they weren’t home free just yet. Asriel reached out with his ruined left arm. It hurt like hell; he gritted his teeth and forced his way through the haze of pain.

Zero kicked at Asriel, trying to push him away; Asriel clasped his left hand around Zero’s right ankle and dug in.

_“Let go!”_

Asriel let go of Zero’s left ankle, then dug his claws higher up on their leg. He did the same on their right leg, climbing up Zero’s legs.

Zero reached down and grabbed Asriel’s ears, pulling them toward themselves. _“How about now?”_

It felt like Zero was going to pull Asriel’s ears right off of his head. But Asriel didn’t let go. Asriel only dug in tighter, letting the vines wrapped around his forearms tie themselves to Zero’s body. He had to stop Zero from reaching their goal, no matter what…

 _“You’ll unmake the universe!”_ Zero threatened Asriel, panic lacing their voice. _“You’ll erase… all of creation! You’ll be even worse of a mass murderer than I could ever dream of being!”_

“If it means destroying you, Zero _…_ I’m willing to take that risk!” Asriel looked ahead. There was a pinprick of light in the distance. The other side of the corridor?

Asriel tore his right arm off of Zero, letting the severed vines trail behind him. And in his hand, he summoned one final partisan. He stabbed at Zero, but they conjured a blade of their own to block it. At least they’d let go of his ears, though.

Asriel pushed the partisan forward, pushing Zero’s blade closer to their neck along with it. _“You’re finished!”_

 _“_ Can you really take another life on your own, Asriel?” Zero asked. _“Even one like mine?”_

 _“_ You said it yourself—I could’ve been you.”

“But you’re not.” Zero grinned. _“You had your chance to give in to the darkness, Asriel, and you threw it away!”_

Asriel drew back his spear, shouted as loud as he could, and plunged the spear forward.

He struck Zero.

He struck Zero again, and again.

He struck Zero for Frisk, who'd been ripped out of their own body to satisfy Zero's megalomania.

He struck Zero for Undyne, who'd abandoned her friends to destroy Zero on her own, and paid for it with her arm and leg.

He struck Zero for Alphys, who'd seen her scientific work warped into tools of evil.

He struck Zero for the monsters they'd seduced into their genocidal plot, then carelessly murdered once their usefulness had run out.

He struck Zero for his father, who'd died trying—in vain—to protect Asriel from Zero. And for his mother, who'd risked her life doing the same.

He struck Zero for all of his friends, Papyrus, Sans, all the people of his kingdom—his subjects, both monster and human—and the people of the world whose lives Zero aimed to snuff out.

He struck Zero for Chara—the Chara Zero had stolen from him, the Chara whose life had been stolen from them, the Chara Asriel had been misled into hating and fearing.

He struck Zero for himself, for his missing eye, for the two years he lived on the surface of the Earth cowering in fear—for revenge.

For everyone he loved! For everyone he'd lost!

Zero was still alive—their red eyes burned with hatred, bewilderment, and desperation. They'd managed to parry only a few of Asriel's strikes. The rest had all found their mark, gouging deep wounds across Zero's body. Black blood spurted through the abyss, crawling across the empty space of the realm of darkness between universes, almost invisible—black on black. Asriel could smell it. It wasn't like the coppery smell of normal blood. Rather, a sick stench like gasoline mixed with putrid meat filled his nostrils.

Zero's grip grew slack on their sword, and it drifted out of their reach. Zero's fingers twitched, but they did not attempt to reach out and grab the sword. As it floated further and further into the inky abyss, its flame flickered and slowly died. And likewise, the fire seemed to go out in Zero's eyes as they floated in the darkness, their mouth agape in shock.

Asriel stabbed at Zero’s armpit and twisted, leaving Zero’s right arm hanging by a thread of sinew. Another stroke severed Zero’s left arm at the forearm. Asriel cut into Zero’s legs next. Zero, thoroughly disarmed, drifted one way, and Asriel drifted the other. Zero’s severed legs tumbled into the inky blackness of the abyss.

The nanomachine armor on Zero’s chest scattered, reaching out to try and grab the severed limbs as they floated away. But the distance was already too vast, and the nanomachines spread too thin, spiderwebbing themselves through space and dwindling into invisibly thin wisps. Soon they vanished, leaving Zero's body—what was left of it—completely unguarded.

Asriel shuddered at the sight. Zero was still alive, but in this state—he couldn't bring himself to strike the final blow. He was not going to give into his dark impulses—not this time—not ever again. Asriel let his partisan tumble from his paw and fade away, its burning blade dwindling into tiny wisps of flame and vanishing in a flurry of sparks. He looked over Zero's mutilated shoulder at the pinprick of light in the distance. It had grown into a small, rectangular aperture glowing with a pure white light.

As long as that light still existed, Asriel realized, Zero was still a threat. There was one more thing Asriel had to do to finish this fight once and for all. Asriel reached out, stretching out his arm, and called forth one last ball of golden fire to his palm. He aimed at the glowing aperture _…_ Zero's eyes widened. They thought he was aiming at them. He fired. The ball of flames shot through the doorway, and the light flickered and vanished.

 _“Wh… What did you do…?”_ Zero whimpered. They looked behind their shoulder, then turned back to face Asriel as the distance between the two of them grew exponentially. Disbelief was written all over their face. _“You couldn’t—”_

 _“I did, Zero.”_ He had destroyed the other side of the door. And when he left, he would destroy the one he and Zero had come through. _“You were right, Zero—I can't kill you in cold blood.”_

He didn't know what would happen to Zero—if they'd die from their wounds, or live forever in this deserted pocket universe, or fade out of existence like Marty McFly as the paradox took hold of them _…_ but no matter what, they were finished. Zero would never hurt anyone ever again.

Asriel put himself on a course to the remaining doorway as Zero spluttered incoherently behind him. Zero’s maimed and torn-apart body dwindled to a tiny dot in the distance behind Asriel as the doorway drew closer.

_A̖̻ͅS̤͇R̳I̺̼͕͍̻̣ͅE̟̬̺͖͙̮̕L̦̪̺̠ͅͅ…̛̼_

Shots lanced out from Zero’s skull blasters, hissing past Asriel. He kept his eye on the glowing portal in front of him, reached out as if reaching for it would bring him closer…

_A̼͎͉͖S͢R͜IĘL̝ ̵̲̞͇͇̞D̰͖̤̪͓͍̬R҉̠͎E̼͝E̼͈͍̲͎̹M͉̥͢U̲͉R͙̙̗̼̦R̼…҉͚̯̳̹̮̘͙_

_A̷̟̜̳̩ͥ̓ͤͮͮ͛ͧS̵͎̑̂̂R̟͔͈̐ͫ͂ͭͦͦI̢̼̱̜̱͆E͌̓̂̑ͧ̽͌҉̮L̹ͦ̊ͮ̚ ̴D̬̉͞Ȑͨ̍́͗̈́E̛͇̱̤̩̤̿̎ͮ̓Eͯ̐ͥ͟M̛̩̣͔̲̱̱͂ͤ̿͑̔̍̒U̪͉̖̘̩ͅR͚̦͎̘͚̭̩̈͟R̬̥ͦ͋͛̑̈́͘…͆ͮ!̵̔̄ͥͧ̾̊!͙̱̻̘͉ͧ̏ͨ͌!̞̂̎ͬ͂͠_

_A̧̋ͤ̚͞͠Ś͊̒̅͑͗̇ͣ͗̄͆͒͢͠͡҉͝R̨̨̈̆̆̓̈̀͋́̓ͨ̂ͯ͛͋̔̆ͭ̚͠İ̷ͣ͛ͬ̿͐̄̔E̸̷̶͌̆ͧ̔͐ͩͫ͛͜͠L̶̸̶͗̀̉ͭͫͧ̋͘ ̧̛͆ͦ̓̓̃̒ͯ̏̏̈́̋̈́͊̃̿ͤ̚̚͟Ḑͦͬͤ̈̿ͯ̊ͮ͊͑̅̍̑͊̐́͟͝͞R̢͐͐̐̉ͨ̇͆̔͛̂̌̂͒̀̆̐̾ͬ͡Ȩ̊̉̀͛͆͒͂̊͒͢Eͦ̂̓ͣ̐̔ͪ̍҉͢͠M̌̓ͧ̊̉̈͗̽̌ͪ͂͂̀ͧ͟͠Û̉̇̈́͐̆͋͟͝͝͝Rͯͣ̾̉̈́̀͌͊̽̍͘҉͏Ř̡ͦ̍ͨ͛͛͆͛̌̔̈́̓̋̇̕͝…̵̢̅̔ͥ͐͋ͣ͒̅̓!̷̵̿ͧͯ̍̓ͦͣ̎̈́͒ͣ̂ͭ͠!̷̃͛̓ͮͧ̎̏̈́̌͑̽͢͏!̇̐̌́̎̌̄͢͡͏_

_“́͞Ȃ̅͗̊S͌͝Ȓ̆̋̈ͪ͒̊Ì̒̿̓̒͏E̸͋̏̾L̎̑ ͭ̍͋ͨD̆RE̋̑E̷M̸͊U̎́͗ͪ̒ͮ͠R̂̏̃ͦ̿͟Rͭ̉͛ͥ́̆,́ ͦͣͮ̄ͣYͮ͂̇̽O͊͑͛ͦ̓̃ͪU ̈ͯ͏M̡ͭ̎ͯ̃O͑̒ͣͦ̒̐N̄́͂ͬ̐ͥS͑͊͋̂̾̚͞T̉̆̌́E̶ͥR͐ͩ!̶̒!̿ͦͯͣ͒͏!”ͤ͗͑_

A beam hit Asriel square in the back. If he'd moved just out of its path, it would have kept going and destroyed the doorway, leaving him trapped with Zero in this realm of darkness. Asriel tasted blood filling his mouth, but the light filled his field of vision and swallowed him whole. Zero's final attack had given Asriel the final push he'd needed to escape!

Asriel shot out the other side of the door, hit the ground and skidded through the snow. He tasted dirt and mud filling his mouth and mingling with the coppery taste of blood. The world spun around him, alternating between earth and sky. A few final lances of blaster lasers lanced out behind him, and Asriel saw, for a fraction of a second, the door behind him explode into a shower of fire and splintered wood.

Zero had tried one last-ditch effort to trap Asriel in the abyss with them, and it had failed. And now they were trapped in the emptiness between universes, and would never be able to escape—by their own design.

Everything around Asriel seemed to be turning white. Was he dying? He didn't feel his body turning to dust. But then again, he couldn't feel his body at all. Was the universe tearing itself apart, as Zero had predicted? Or was the timeline resetting itself?

Whatever was happening… he had finally won. _“I… did it…”_ Asriel smiled with his last remaining ounce of strength and passed out, giving into the blinding whiteness as the world spun around him.

–

Zero floated in the darkness, drifting aimlessly, without arms, without legs, no light to guide them. Asriel was gone.

_Asriel was gone._

How could this have happened? How could Zero's body have faltered? How could Asriel have reduced their body to this immovable wreck, when it was they who had the blood of demons coursing through their veins? How had their limbs failed to respond to their commands? How had their fire gone out?

Asriel's determination _…_ How had his beaten theirs?

For the first time, Zero felt in their heart the specter of true self-doubt.

Zero had pushed him to become stronger so that Asriel's body could make a suitable template for Zero's spirit. But—could it be true—had they made Asriel _too_ strong? Had they, in fact, sealed their fate the instant they'd hired that assassin to take out Asriel's eye?

Was everything that had happened _…_ every part of their plan that had gone wrong _…_ _their own fault?_

_No!_

They weren't beaten yet. All they had to do was make a new door, to a new universe—maybe even the same universe—and they'd come back. They _always_ came back. Time couldn't be rewritten so easily. The universe owed them a debt. A debt! They'd written themselves into the fabric of the cosmos—become an integral part of two universes—someday, more than two, perhaps. Zero—Zero was the true god of death, immortal and indestructible, Zero the Inevitable, Zero the self-created! They would meet Asriel again, and when they did, they would be sure to _erase_ him! All they had to do was summon a door, a door, their kingdom for a door, their godhead for a door, anything for a way out of this endless realm of emptiness…!

Zero noticed that their skull blasters were shrinking. Their stark white shapes, cut like the moon in the night sky against the darkness, were growing fuzzy and losing their shape. Sharp angles soften, fangs and spikes wore down to nubs and finally down to smooth flat surfaces; like a stone eroding under an ocean's waves for thousands of years, only over the course of a few seconds. With both doors to the material world broken down, nothing could continue to exist in this liminal shadow realm. This was truly a world of nothingness, and the only thing that could exist in it was Nothing. Not for the first time, but for the last time, Zero had fundamentally misjudged their situation. As long as even a single door to the material world existed in this place, it was stable; but with all portals to the world of flesh and bone removed, the realm was inherently inhospitable to all forms of substance.

No door ever appeared, for in a realm with no form, no shape, and no matter—a truly empty abyss, devoid of even a single particle—its entrants had only what they took with them. And in this microcosm of the end, the heat death of the universe, matter slowly boiled away and electrons evaporated into nothingness, and even the most rudimentary and simple of elementary particles and sub-particles fell apart and broke down. A haze enveloped Zero's body as the atoms of their fur and skin boiled away into the vacuum. Even the thick, sludge-like black ichor that had coursed through their veins, and had been the closest thing to Zero's true form, could not resist the temptation of oblivion. Zero's silent screams drifted through the vacuum at the end of creation as the innermost molecules of their body finally broke down into electrons, protons, and neutrons, and those particles broke down into their constituents, and those broke up as well until nothing was left but Zero's insubstantial and immaterial soul.

The emptiness stretched on endlessly in every vast direction. Zero's disembodied spirit drifted, without form or shape, an exile from time, in a realm where not even the simplest forms of matter, let alone life, could exist. A world of death, a kingdom of nothing… the heaven Zero had always longed for.

The echoing thoughts in Zero's restless mind slowly, slowly faded into the infinite silence. Eventually, Zero stopped thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The day you've been waiting for since Chapter 1 has finally come. Zero has finally gotten dunked on--permanently.
> 
> Now what?


	41. A Final Farewell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, the story ends.
> 
> [musical accompaniment](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1m4tYUfYCj4)

Asriel woke up to a light, regular beeping, the humming of machinery, and soft, mechanical breathing. The air tasted like cotton in his mouth. He cracked open his eye. The light was blinding at first, but soon his surroundings faded into view. White walls and a white ceiling. A mint-green cloth partition hanging to his side. It looked like he was in a hospital—sounded like it, too. The last thing he remembered was flying through the door before it exploded behind him. Where was he now? Had the universe reset? Had he changed the past? Or was this purgatory?

There was something uncomfortable sticking in his nose—some kind of tube. Asriel took a deep breath. He reached up, grabbed the tube, and pulled it out. He could feel a few other tubes stuck in him, and in more… sensitive parts of his body. Asriel tried to sit up. Most of his body didn’t hurt anymore. But his limbs and chest felt weak, and there was a big plaster cast covering his left arm.

_No…_

He reached up with his right hand and touched his left eye. He still had an eyepatch.

 _“No…”_ he croaked. His voice could barely squeak through his dried-out throat.

Had he not changed anything? Asriel heard the beeping to his side rise in pitch and tempo, and he realized it was his heartbeat. He took a few deep breaths and tried to slow his breathing. He tried to console himself. There was still hope he’d changed the past. Maybe he just hadn’t been affected—maybe changing the timeline was like being in the eye of a hurricane.

Asriel reached out with his right arm and pulled aside the green partition curtain. There was a bay window on the other side of the room, late winter sunlight streaming through the partially-frosted glass, and a table filled with colorful flowers, wrapped gift boxes, and cards. Asriel squinted to make out the faces of the propped-up cards. He saw Christmas cards. New Year’s cards. Consolation cards. And one letter, still in its envelope, Asriel’s name written on the front in bold, strong, messy handwriting.

Somebody knocked on the door. Asriel didn’t answer.

The door cracked open anyway, and a green-eyed deer monster about Asriel’s age stepped in. They took off their snow-dusted beret and scarf and hung their dark violet peacoat on the coat rack, then immediately turned around to rummage through their backpack. “Uh, hi, Asriel.” They waved their hoof-fingers, but were too busy searching for something to look at him. “T-today I think we could read—”

They looked back at Asriel. “Y-you’re awake!?”

_Selim?_

But if they were here, then that meant he hadn't changed the past…

 _“Oh, no,”_ he moaned in spite of himself. And then, before he could stop himself, he added, “Why are you here?”

Selim’s face fell as they dropped the book they’d been holding back into their bag. “I-is this a bad time? ‘Cuz I can come b-back later…”

Asriel held out his hand. “Wait—I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just—” Asriel searched for the right words. “Dad—King Asgore. If you’re here—that means h-he’s gone, isn’t he?”

“W-what do you mean, ‘if I’m here?’” Selim asked.

 _“Is he dead?”_ Asriel asked. He already knew the answer. He could feel tears welling up in his good eye.

Selim stared down at the floor, unwilling to meet Asriel’s eye. “I-I’m really sorry, Asriel. Do you want me to leave you alone for now?”

Asriel shook his head. “…No. I'm sorry, it's not your fau—I-it's a long story. How long have I been here?” he asked.

“A little over two months. They had to put you in a medically-induced coma.”

“Wow. Was I that messed up?”

Selim took a seat on the chair next to Asriel’s bed. “I-I guess so. Your mom wouldn’t let anyone see you for the first two weeks. After that, you were all wrapped up like a mummy for the next month.”

“How often did you visit me? And…” Asriel tried to look at the cover of the book Selim was holding, but couldn’t make it out. “Were you… _reading_ to me?”

Selim blushed. “I-it’s n-nothing, just… would you believe my history textbook?”

Asriel fought back a laugh, inadvertently turning it into a much more embarrassing snort. “Wow, Selim. You’re a nerd.”

“W-well, I aced my last test, so I think it’s working.”

“But my mom’s okay, then?”

“Yeah…”

“Did anyone else get hurt on Christmas?” Asriel still could hardly believe it. Ten weeks in a coma. It felt unreal.

“C-can we talk about something else?” Selim asked.

“Why?”

Selim fidgeted with their necklace.

A surge of panic shot through Asriel's brain. “Selim, are your parents okay?”

“Y-yeah, they’re fine. It's just… Cervus and her family, they were all in S-Snowdout for Christmas…” Their eyes went misty.

Cervus. That was the monster who'd swapped bodies with Selim.

“D-did they find her—er, y- _your_ body up there?” The only other humans that high up on the mountain that night would have been Misanthropy agents, and it wouldn't have been all that hard to discern the body of a fourteen-year-old from the bodies of adults. Asriel felt sick just thinking about it. What a horrible day that Christmas must have been…

Selim nodded. “Guess there's no going back for me now, huh?” But despite the attempt at dark humor, the human who'd been transplanted into a deer monster's body looked like they were close to tears.

Asriel's left arm was still useless in its thick cast and he couldn't quite reach over to Selim's seat with his right, so he settled for resting his head on their shoulder a show of consolation. “There, there.”

“Hard to look at your own dead body.”

“I can't imagine.” At least when Asriel had died all those years ago, he hadn't left a body behind.

Selim sniffed. “I-it still doesn't feel real.”

That, though, Asriel could relate to. “Yeah. That's how it goes.” Asriel sighed. “I'm sorry, Selim. It was my fault all this happened.” All of the monsters in Snowdout, Frisk, his father… all gone because he'd just been a little too weak, a little too slow…

Selim patted him on the head. “You did your best. Your mom told me so.”

Asriel mustered a laugh. “Mom's been talking up my combat skills, huh? Am I still a meme?”

“Internet memes have a half life of about six hours now, so, uh, no. Sorry.”

 _Given everything that's happened, my meme status should be the least of my worries._ “I wish I could've reset time,” Asriel mumbled.

“It'll be okay,” Selim told him. “Just try to think about all the people who didn't die. Like your mom, and Captain Undyne—”

“Undyne's okay? What about Papyrus and Alphys?”

“They're fine, too. They both visited you a lot, actually!”

Asriel breathed a sigh of relief. So this wasn't the worst of all possible worlds, after all.

“And, uh, I guess, if you could just undo everything…” Selim pondered, “then we wouldn't be friends, and I would still be a human, and I'd probably still identify as a boy and be miserable for a different reason…”

“Guess we've both got to look on the bright side.” Asriel tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed. They felt like toothpicks. Two months without moving them had turned just about every ounce of muscle in them into jelly. And there was still the matter of…

Selim stood up and offered Asriel their hoof to help him to his feet.

“Uh, Selim? C-could you go call a nurse and get them to take out my, er…”

“Your IV?”

Asriel winced sheepishly. “N-no, no, the other one.”

–

It took another few weeks of physical therapy before Asriel could walk again, and even then, he still found himself relying on a cane to support himself. March turned to April, winter turned to spring, the trees started to get their leaves back, and rain began to pelt the battered kingdom of monsters as the frost started to melt away.

The population of monsters and humans had been decimated by what had been called the Christmas Day Cataclysm, which had wiped out the small, but significant population living in the mountaintop village of Snowdout. Falling debris had caused dozens of injuries and thousands of dollars of property damage to the denizens of Newest Home, but had taken no lives.

The cataclysm had been (correctly) attributed to Misanthropy, the extreme anti-human group (although, due to Zero’s actions, not a single survivor from that organization remained who could explain what exactly had occurred). On that day, in the wee hours of that Christmas morning, before the sun had even begun to rise, the kingdom had lost its king, and the battered body of its barely-alive prince had been pulled from the Core’s smoldering wreckage.

Despite the mountain of responsibilities that had fallen on the Queen and the tanking relations between the Dreemurr kingdom and its human neighbors, Toriel made her best effort to spend time with Asriel every day. But although she spared Asriel the details of her political troubles, he could see in the gray weariness behind her spectacles that her work was taking its toll.

Toriel often brought Sans (who had miraculously survived the destruction of Snowdout by attending a scientific conference in London) with her. He made her laugh. Asriel became suspicious that there was something between the two of them, and he didn’t know how to feel about it. He’d had less time to grieve Asgore’s death than her, and the pain of Asriel’s failure was still fresh in his mind.

Toriel told Asriel he was a hero. But Asriel didn’t feel like one. He still believed that if he’d just been a little bit faster and a little bit stronger, Asgore would still be with them. No amount of rationalization could convince him otherwise. Asgore's absence filled the quiet halls of the castle with an unreal-feeling malaise. Every time Asriel looked out into the garden, he half expected to see the lumbering old king tending to the flowers, and was inevitably disappointed.

And Frisk's voice had completely vanished from Asriel's mind, making Asriel two for three on friends who were gone because of him. Toriel took the news of their departure poorly. Asriel had immediately regretted telling her and wondered if it had been easier if he’d just lied and spent the rest of his life pretending the human was still there in his head.

Of course, they were, in a way, still a part of him, but it was lonely inside Asriel’s head. He’d only just been starting to get used to hearing voices. And dating was a bit harder (and more anxiety-inducing) without Frisk there to give Asriel their sage romantic advice. Every moment when the world went quiet, Asriel half expected to hear Frisk's voice on the edges of their conscious mind. The silence was the worst in the evenings. Whenever Asriel fell asleep, he had nightmares. He could hardly tell which was worse: being asleep, or being awake.

But still—the kingdom soldiered on and rebuilt itself, and Asriel tried to do the same. At the very least, he wasn't alone—everyone in the kingdom had suffered. But everybody else had gotten a two-month head start on Asriel. Once again, he'd stumbled into the future, and everything around him was familiar, yet different. At times, he felt like a stranger in his own home.

–

 The flowers in Asgore’s garden had started to bloom. A handful of golden flowers were just beginning to peek out from the dead brown earth, their golden petals just barely poking out from their tiny green bodies. Golden flowers still unnerved Asriel. He’d spent too long as one, and hadn’t enjoyed the experience very much. But they had always been Asgore’s favorite, so he tried to tolerate them as he walked along the young flowers where, in the monster funerary tradition, Asgore’s dust had been scattered. The big guy had always cared for his flowers. And even in death, his remains were still nourishing his garden. It was poetic, in a way, and also (as Asriel continued to reflect on it) a little morbid to think that Asgore's flowers were eating his earthly remains.

Asriel would frequently find himself in Asgore's garden, even though going there didn't really do anything to improve his spirits. It just made his heart ache. Maybe deep down, he felt like he deserved to feel that way.

In this garden, Asriel couldn’t help but remember when he and Chara had decided to make a pie for their father. What could be cuter? Only where the recipe called for cups of butter, they’d instead used buttercups. Asgore had gotten very ill. It had been an innocent mistake, but Chara had seemed to think it was a little funny. And, much later on, after Zero had taken over, they’d used the same flowers to poison themselves to death. And yet they had still remained Asgore's favorite type of flower, right up to the bitter end.

 _Did Chara do that in the other universe, too?_ Asriel wondered. _Did they have that darkness inside them in every timeline?_

He heard footsteps from behind, and a familiar voice. “Hey, Asriel.”

Asriel looked over his shoulder. There, standing behind him, was Undyne. He hadn’t seen her since Christmas. Although, to be fair, from _his_ perspective, it had only been a few weeks. All of her hair had grown back and then some, flowing in an unruly red mane behind her shoulders and down the back of her olive green overcoat. She grinned her snaggletoothed grin. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah. Longer for you, though.”

Undyne clapped Asriel on the back and sized him up. “You look pretty good, Asriel! How are the legs?”

“A-a little wobbly still,” Asriel admitted, tapping on the head of his cane. It was a good cane made from sturdy oak, and Selim and Toriel both agreed that it made him look distinguished (Sans, never passing up an opportunity for a terrible play on words, told him it made him look “dog-stinguished”, and later explained that it brought out his cane-ine side).

Truth be told, everything still felt a little wobbly to Asriel. He’d regained mastery in his arms and hands quicker than his legs, though, mainly because needing other people to hold a fork and knife for him was much more embarrassing than needing a cane to help him walk. All in all, he’d said goodbye to his well-cultivated warrior’s physique, at least for the time being.

“Well, kid, you’ve made a lot of progress. You were in pretty rough shape when they got you to the hospital.”

“So were you,” Asriel pointed out. “You had a hole in your gut.”

“You looked like a hamburger, Asriel,” Undyne told him. “A hamburger that got turned inside out,” she added. “A burmhamger. Anyway, I’m real proud of you!” She hugged him, and Asriel felt his spine start to collapse. Undyne was wiry and lithe but could give crushing bear-hugs that put Asgore's to shame. “You mom told me about everything she saw in that final fight and I mean, I know I taught you all about never giving up, but damn, there were like five times during that fight where _I’d_ have called it quits!”

“I-I dunno about that.”

“Well, take it from me,” Undyne said. “You’re pretty good.”

Asriel carefully sat on the ground, laying his cane at his side and spreading out his arms to gesture at the garden surrounding himself and Undyne. “Not good enough.”

Undyne sat down next to him, her eye misty. “I know how you feel, Asriel. He was like a dad to me.” She patted him on the shoulder. “Sorry you had to miss the funeral and everything.” Undyne wiped her eye on her sleeve. “God, I just keep going over our old sparring sessions from back in the Underground… just thinking, _'how could this have happened?'”_

“You're right. It shouldn't have happened.” Asriel shuddered. “Dad should still be alive…”

“Asriel…”

“I stopped Zero from going back in time and leading their past self to our universe,” Asriel blurted out. “That means they couldn’t take over Chara’s body, which means they couldn’t take over Frisk’s body, which means they couldn’t create Misanthropy—everything should be different! And Dad should be here, a-and Frisk, too!” His fists trembled as his claws dug into his palms. “I don't understand why it didn't work!”

“But Asriel… if Zero hadn’t come to our universe, you’d still be a talking flower.”

“What’s your point?” Asriel snapped.

“I dunno. But think about it. You were going to give up everything you’ve gained—literally _everything_ —to make life better for the people you cared about. That's pretty much the biggest, most heroic thing you could possibly do.” Undyne shrugged. “So it didn’t work out.”

“But—”

“Look, take it from me, Asriel—no matter how strong you are, sometimes things don’t turn out the way we want them to, and sometimes there are people you can’t save. Everyone has to live with that. Even superheroes. But we just have to keep going. Sure, we don’t live in the best of all possible worlds. So we’ve got to make the best of the world we’ve got, right?”

“I-I guess,” Asriel admitted, drying his tears.

“Which reminds me,” said Undyne.

Papyrus burst through the entryway to the garden. A few petals fluttered onto his gleaming cranium. “CAPTAIN UNDYNE! PRINCE ASRIEL! I figured I would find you two here!” The lanky skeleton clapped Undyne and Alphys on the shoulders. “Undyne, I wanted to ask you about catering for tomorrow's festivities!”

“Are you volunteering, Papyrus?”

Papyrus smirked. “How could I pass up an opportunity like that? Anybody who's everybody is going to be there!”

“Festivities…?” Asriel asked.

Papyrus jumped up. “For the… did Captain Undyne seriously not tell you?”

Asriel looked to Undyne for an explanation.

Undyne laughed. “Alphys and I are getting married!” She furrowed her brow. “Wait. You didn't get my invitation?”

“I-I had a lot of cards to go through when I woke up. I must have missed yours…” Asriel sighed. “I guess it was pretty obvious you’d get to it eventually…”

“Yeah… and with everything that’s happened to us, why not now? Anyway, I hope you’ll show up. It’ll be fun.”

“I have so many wonderful pastas planned for tomorrow!” Papyrus rubbed his hands gleefully, a manic look in his sockets. “Spaghettis that would boggle your minds…”

“You'd better start cooking if you want everything ready by tomorrow,” Undyne told Papyrus. The skeleton leaped to it and dashed out of the garden.

Undyne rested her (mechanical) hand on Asriel's head, tousling his hair. “I hope you make it. It'll be fun! Gotta rest on your laurels just a bit, kid. I mean, you _did_ save the world.” Undyne smiled, showing off her rows of misshapen fangs, and Asriel felt as though the sunlight beaming down on the garden had grown just a bit brighter.

–

The wedding, and the reception that followed, were just as much fun as Undyne had promised. It was all pomp and circumstances, although both Alphys and Undyne wrote their own vows (Alphys' wedding vows were very formal, and the poor monster was wracked with anxiety while reading them; Undyne's vows were far less formal and far more… colorful). Both brides wore two of the most ornate wedding dresses Asriel had ever seen (not that he'd seen many). Undyne's choice of formal wear caught Asriel by surprise; he'd never seen her wear something so… fluffy. (“Are you _kidding?”_ Undyne had asked him when he'd brought it up. “I wouldn't pass up an opportunity like this! I _never_ get to wear dresses!”) At the end of the wedding ceremony, Undyne caught sight of Asriel's friend Selim in attendance… and made sure to throw the bouquet straight at Asriel's face. It was a direct hit.

Toriel had graciously provided the courtyard of the (newly renovated) castle for the festivities. Everybody Asriel knew was there, along with plenty of people Asriel didn’t know. In particular, a lot of humans in dark suits seemed to be spending a lot of time around the blushing bride Alphys (although Undyne was blushing about an equal amount). As the night wore on and the reception saw a speech from Alphys’ best man (Mettaton, who shamelessly used the microphone to promote his new album) and Undyne’s best man (Papyrus, who shamelessly used the microphone to talk about how great of a boss Undyne was and how lucky Alphys was to be with her), as well as an equally-shameless and truly dire comedy routine between Toriel and Sans that made Asriel almost wish that Zero had killed him, Alphys herself finally stepped up to the podium.

“U-um, excuse me, i-is this thing on?” She tapped the mic with a scaly claw. “Um…”

Alphys backed away and walked away from the podium, only for the men in suits to usher her back on.

“O-okay, sorry about that…”

“Knock ‘em dead!” Undyne called out from her table. She was sitting with a few members of the Royal Guard, as well as some humans Asriel didn’t recognize. The table was littered with empty bottles, which went a long way toward explaining the flushed look on her face.

“So, uh, Undyne and I, and my friend Mettaton—”

Mettaton waved his shapely metal leg in the air.

“Y-yes, Mettaton, hi. T-the three of us, and my new friends here—we’re doing s-something really important and cool, and we, uh, want to tell you all about it!”

The rest of the attendees clapped politely.

“S-so, uh, you all know me, I’m all about s-science, and I-I kinda have a… er, a ‘doomsday machine’ habit. A-and I’m really sick of getting too carried away and inventing things that can hurt people! So we’re p-putting our science to good use and inventing things that _stop_ people from getting hurt! Like body armor!”

“Incredibly fabulous body armor!” Mettaton interjected.

“Y-yeah!” Alphys pumped her fist in the air. “No more weapons, or walking tanks, or killer drones, o-or planet cracking bombs… Alphadyne Armors LLC will be fabricating stylish body armor for all sorts of people! Soldiers, politicians, celebrities, pop idols…”

“’Planet-cracking bombs’?” Selim asked Asriel. “Like in _Doctor Strangelove?”_

“Who’s Doctor Strangelove,” Asriel asked them, “and why do they have a bomb inside them?”

“And not just armors! W-we’ve got super cool things like dresses that change color based on your mood, and anti-personnel hats, and self-cleaning underwear!” Alphys continued. “We’re gonna make a lot of money and help a lot of people!”

The attendees burst into thunderous applause as Alphys took a seat next to her wife, and the festivities continued well into the night. To the surprise of all, Shyren, a monster from Waterfall known for both her lovely voice and terrible anxiety, took to the stage to serenade the courtyard. The sky was perfectly clear and dotted with stars, and the light from the full moon illuminated the courtyard's freshly-replanted garden almost like daylight. As the party wound down, Asriel found himself struggling to stay awake. Selim offered to help him back to the castle.

“It’s right over here,” Asriel pointed out.

“But what if you fall down and can’t get up?”

“I’m _injured_ , not _old,”_ Asriel protested, but he accepted their help anyway.

“Lemme get your cane for you, old man,” the deer-monster joked.

“You can help me as long as you stay off my lawn.”

The two of them walked back to the castle. A slow song had started playing, and the singer's voice drifted through the air, accompanied by a gradually building crescendo of twinkling piano notes. _“I stare at the stars and the sky up above and think 'what am I made of?' Am I full of sorrow? Am I hurt and pained? Or am I filled with love…”_

“S-so, uh, Asriel, while you're still awake, I’ve got a weird question,” Selim said.

“O-okay?” Asriel wasn’t sure what to expect.

“So monsters can marry each other and have kids, no matter what their gender is or what they look like, right?”

“Well, yeah. We’re all the same kind of magic dust on the inside.”

“B-but, all the couples I’ve seen who have children… they look, like, the same species. L-like your mom and dad. So—”

“That is an excellent question,” Toriel interrupted. Asriel felt a jolt of adrenaline run through his body. He wasn’t sure where she’d come from, how she’d snuck up on them, or how long she’d been eavesdropping on them, but he knew she was about to embarrass him. “You see, child, when two monsters decide to have a child of their own,” she explained, “they start to—”

“Mom—”

“They each give a part of their souls to create the child, you see—”

“Mom, please—”

“And their two souls blend together, so in the months before the child is finally born—”

“Mother—”

“And they meet each other halfway—”

“I'm—”

“And so, by the time they have their child, the parents both look like each other!” Toriel clapped her paws together. “Why do you ask, Selim my dear?”

“I-I’m sure they’re j-just curious, Mom, they’ve only been a monster for a few months a-and don’t know a lot about—”

Toriel pointed at the two of them. “You two aren’t planning on—giving me grandchildren?”

Asriel was thankful that Selim looked just as scandalized as he felt. “Y-your Majesty,” they stammered, “we’re, like, fifteen!”

“Well, of course not _right away…”_ Toriel explained. “But perhaps, in five or ten years…”

“Mom, weren’t you and Dad two thousand years old by the time you had me?”

“Just do not make the same mistakes we did, Asriel.” Toriel looked over her shoulder, back at the dwindling festivities. “Anyway, I must discuss something with the bride and bride. You two stay out of trouble, now.” She kissed Asriel on the cheek Asriel could have sworn he saw her wink at Selim before departing.

“…Are you all right, Asriel?” Selim asked, breaking a stretch of awkward silence.

Asriel caught his breath. He had no idea he’d been holding it. “I’ll be fine. I think. Sorry about my mom.”

“I-I was just asking that question,” Selim said, “because I wanted to know if Captain Undyne and Doctor Alphys could have a kid, and if it'd come out green.”

“Y-yup.”

“All three of ‘em would be green, then?”

“Yup.” Asriel nodded.

“Wow.” The deer looked deep in thought.

Selim helped Asriel to his room. “Well, here we are, Your Majesty.” They bowed as they opened the door for him. With their perfectly-tailored suit and waistcoat, they actually looked like a butler, but Asriel didn’t feel like telling them that.

“Thanks, Selim.”

“Don’t mention it. Thanks for bringing me along, by the way.” They were still holding Asriel’s paw. Asriel didn’t mind, but it was strange that they hadn’t let go yet.

“No problem. Undyne told me to bring a friend, and, uh… I kind of, um…” Asriel chuckled bitterly in spite of himself. “W-well, my other two friends are kinda dead…”

Selim put on an uneasy smile. “Er, um, I…” Asriel was starting to get the feeling they were outgrowing that kind of bleak humor, while he… wasn't.

“At least being my friend puts you in pretty exclusive company.” Asriel immediately felt bad about what he'd said, even though it had sounded funny when he'd said it. “S-sorry. That's way too far.”

“It's okay.” Selim shook their head. “Oh, uh, s-speaking of friends, though… uh… I just wanted to let you know that even though a lot of bad things have happened here, I'm really happy my family moved here.”

“I'm really happy your family moved here too,” Asriel said.

“Before we came here, my parents would always worry. About whether they'd be allowed to keep me, what the neighbors were thinking… and then we came here, and suddenly we were just as normal as everyone else…” Selim hugged him. “So, uh, tell your mom thanks for running such a great kingdom, okay?”

Asriel nodded. “Can do.” It did his heart good to know that even despite the rough patches, humans and monsters really could get along.

And then Selim leaned toward him, and Asriel thought they might try to kiss him, so he closed his eye expectantly…

But Asriel was even more tired than he'd thought, and as soon as his eyelids fell shut, he instantly lost all feeling in his arms and legs and collapsed in the deer's arms. _“Oh, god, Asriel, I'm so sorry, are you all right?”_ his deer datefriend cried out as his body went limp in their arms.

Asriel was disappointed in himself. This just about always seemed to happen to him when they were together, and it was getting embarrassing. “I don't think I'm gonna make it to my bed,” he murmured. Before the prince slipped away, the last few lines of the song from the courtyard rang in his ears.

  _“…It's there that I'll find inner peace, not war, and dreams that I let slip away…_

–

_“…I'll find the joyfulness I'm looking for way back in yesterday…”_

_Chara's favorite part of the Underground was Waterfall—they loved to make constellations out of the glittering gems poking out of the ceilings of those dark tunnels and make up stories around all of them—but Asriel's favorite part of the Underground was Snowdin. Chara wasn't too fond of it—it was too cold for their liking—but Asriel didn't mind the cold. One of the benefits of fire magic. Chara would always happily accompany Asriel through the snowy forest and into town, despite grumbling about the cold the whole time, but only because it gave them an excuse to try and sneak into the local tavern (the first time, they succeeded, and Toriel grounded them for a month—and made Asriel swear he'd keep an eye on his sibling next time)._

_There was one other thing Chara loved doing in Snowdin besides causing trouble, though, and as Asriel packed a pawful of snow into a ball, he hoped it would distract the human from their mischief. His snowball hit Chara square in the back. They were so bundled up that they probably barely felt it, but screamed anyway in mock-pain and outrage. “Asriel! How dare you betray me!?”_

_Asriel couldn't help but giggle as he hid under the prickly canopy of a pine tree and started packing another snowball, while Chara started making armaments of their own. “I'll get you for this!”_

_“You can't hit me in my fortress!” Asriel called out. Chara's snowball shattered against the pine tree's drooping, snow-laden bough, spraying snow into the air as the springy branch whipped back and forth._

_“Oh, yeah?”_

_The barrage continued, and Asriel snuck out from under the tree and circled around Chara. He could get them in the back, and they'd be so surprised! He balled up a fresh snowball, drew his arm back like a champion pitcher…_

_Chara glanced behind them—had they heard the crunch of the snow underneath Asriel's footpaws? They whipped their arm around, threw their snowball, and nailed Asriel in the face._

_It wasn't like any other snowball. There was a burst of heat behind the cold, stinging his eye. The snowball fell out of Asriel's paw as he cupped it over his eye. It hurt! He started to cry._

_Chara froze. “A-Azzy, cool it on the acting, will ya? We're not trying to win an Oscar here, it's just a game.”_

_Asriel kept crying._

_“Azzy—Aw jeez, are you really hurt?”_

_Asriel nodded and whimpered._

_Chara pried Asriel's paw away from his left eye. “C'mon, lemme take a look at it.”_

_“It hurts!”_

_“Yeah, yeah, I'm sure it does. Look, it's not so bad. There must've just been a piece of ice in that snowball or something.”_

_“O-or maybe a rock or something!” Asriel whined._

_“No, Asriel, look, you're not bleeding or anything. Just grab some snow and hold it on there and you'll feel better.”_

_Asriel nodded and pressed the cold snow against his eye. The throbbing, stinging pain slowly grew dull until it faded away._

_“Now let's go someplace warm,” Chara said. Their eyes lit up. “The tavern!”_

_“No, Chara! You're not supposed to!”_

_“Don't you have an injury to nurse?” Chara groaned. “Fine, we'll go to the librerry.”_

_“I-it's the 'librarby'.”  Asriel sniffed._

_Chara crossed their arms and turned up their nose. “If they're not gonna spell it right, neither will I.”_

_Chara hurried along, and Asriel struggled to keep up with them. “Y-you're not gonna run off to the tavern, are you?”_

_“If I leave you behind your mom'll ground me for a whole year.”_

_“S-she's your mom too, y'know!”_

_Chara froze in their tracks. Asriel caught up with them and stopped alongside the human child as well. An unexpected traveler stood in the middle of the road, their dark cloak speckled and flecked with snow and flapping in the breeze._

Asriel wasn't sure when his dream had gone from first-person to third-person, but he was now staring at his younger self and his adopted sibling from the other side of the road. And the two children were staring at _—him._

“Hey, Azzy,” Chara half-whispered to their furry counterpart, “is this an older cousin you forgot to tell me about?”

The younger Asriel shook their head. Their ears flapped in the snowy air.

“Hey, what's your name?” Chara called out to the older Asriel.

Asriel opened his mouth, but he couldn't speak. Finally, he pushed the words out of his mouth. “I-I'm Asriel.”

Chara's eyes grew wide, and they looked back and forth between the two Asriels. “Azzy,” they gasped, nudging their sibling in the side. “He's _you from the future!”_

“R-really?” The younger Asriel looked at the older Asriel. They looked confused, and a little frightened.

 _“I'm calling him 'Cooler Asriel'!”_ Chara whispered to Asriel. “Hey, how'd you get the eyepatch, Cooler Asriel?”

“U-uh, um…” Asriel's mouth went dry. This was weird. How do you talk to your ten-year-old self and the sibling who eventually got possessed by their evil alternate future self and ruined your life?

“Maybe he lost it 'cuz I hit you in the eye just now,” Chara told the younger Asriel.

“Chara!” the younger Asriel whined.

“A-actually,” Asriel said, trying to ignore how awkward this all felt, “some guy tried to assassinate me and shot my eye out.”

“Whoa!” Chara gasped. “You're gonna be so badass another guy tried to _shoot_ you! With a _gun!”_

“T-that's not cool, that's scary,” the younger Asriel protested.

“Cooler Asriel, what did you do to the guy who took your eye?”

Asriel thought for a moment. “M-my bodyguard caught them and had them sent to jail.”

“A _torture_ jail?”

“No, a regular jail, for regular bad guys.”

Chara looked disappointed but tried to keep their spirits up. “So if you grow up to be a total badass…” They looked between the two Asriels again, grinning, with high expectations floating through their head. “…I must grow up into something really special, right?”

_Something really special._

Zero begging him not to let the king and queen know why they were dying, their withered and emaciated fingers digging into his wrist as their hollow, hooded eyes bored into his.

Zero screaming in his head amid the pain, asking him why he wasn’t fighting back, why he was letting themselves die again. Didn’t he care about his parents? His kingdom? Didn’t he care about _them?_

Zero dancing around Asriel in their new body, their manic smile contorting Frisk’s stoic face. Regaling Asriel, night after night on the surface, with stories about how easy and fun it had been… to slaughter his friends and family.

Zero faking their death. A mock funeral for their disguise as the monster race’s first ambassador to humankind. Asriel hoping they were gone for good but frightened that they might not be—every day after that funeral, looking over his shoulder and wondering when Zero would make their return.

The kingdom nearly torn apart. Zero’s hand behind it all. Malevolent eyes in the darkness. The sound of metal tearing through flesh, of snapping and shattering bones, the taste of blood in his mouth. The screaming in his head slowly fading into oblivion.

_Something really special._

Asriel tried to hide his feelings, but as the prince stood in front of the children, silent and motionless, Chara’s smile slowly shrank and disappeared. They couldn’t know what he was thinking—but his silence said enough for the human child.

They looked down at their shoes. “Oh.”

The younger Asriel patted his despondent sibling on the shoulder. “I-I’m sorry, Chara.”

_They don’t always turn into Zero, you know._

The voice came from behind Asriel. It was completely unfamiliar to him, but… something about it struck a chord in his memory.

Asriel looked over his shoulder, and as he turned his head, the falling snowflakes vanished, the carpet of snow transforming into a bed of dry, auburn leaves. Tall pine trees faded away, replaced by crumbling walls and stone columns.

Standing behind Asriel in the ruins was a human about his age. They were tall and lanky, with spindly arms and legs, and wearing a very familiar green sweater. Even though they were taller than Asriel, the sweater was still too big for them, and their fingertips barely poked out from the sleeves. Pale skin, deep brown hair brushing their narrow shoulders, and red eyes. Draped around their neck, a heart-shaped locket.

It was _them._

A sword instantly appeared in Asriel’s paws, and he instinctively assumed a combat stance. He should have known he hadn’t finished them—

The kid put up their hands. “Simmer down, Azzy. It's me, Chara.”

Asriel lowered his sword, but stayed vigilant.

“Looking good, Asriel. Uh, all things considered.” They paused, their smile shrinking by a few teeth. “Y’know, you can put that sword down. I’m a good guy.”

Part of Asriel was telling him the same thing. But he couldn’t let his guard down entirely. Those red eyes were still the same.

Another human walked down the corridor and took their place beside Chara. They were the same height, a little less thin, with a darker complexion and darker eyes, but with the same longish brown hair. They wore a blue sweater Asriel had seen before. They put one hand on Chara’s shoulder. The two of them could have been siblings, had they not been born so many years apart. “It’s okay, Asriel. I can vouch for them.”

Asriel dropped the sword. “Frisk?”

Frisk nodded. “That’s me. But not the one you know.”

Not the one he knew? So that meant this Frisk and this Chara… “A-are you both from… another universe?”

Chara shrugged. “Same universe. Different timeline.”

“So what’s your world like?”

Chara and Frisk exchanged glances. “Well,” said Chara, “you and I died way back then—that happened in this timeline too, right?”

Asriel nodded.

“Yeah, bummer about that.” Chara shrugged noncommittally as if dying had been the same as losing your wallet. “Anyway, I took up residence in Frisk’s head, and I was kinda pissed about it at first, but it turns out Frisk ain’t such a bad person.”

“After we broke the barrier, Alphys and I figured out how to pull Chara out of my head and give them their own body,” Frisk explained.

“W-what about me?” Asriel asked.

“You’re still a flower,” Chara answered. “We assume,” they quickly added. “Frisk and I looked for you after the barrier came down, but couldn’t find you.” They shrugged. “No idea where you are. Sorry.”

“S-sounds like, apart from that, your timeline’s a lot better than mine.” Asriel sank to the floor. “You two are gone, Dad’s gone, Undyne has robot limbs…”

“You’ve only got one eye,” Chara added. Frisk nudged them in the ribs. “Sorry.”

Frisk patted Asriel on the shoulder. “Cheer up, Asriel.” They didn’t smile as widely as Chara, but their smile was comforting all the same. It was a smile Asriel had never expected to see again. They hugged him. “I hope things turn out okay for you.”

“Or, at least, as okay as they can be,” Chara interjected.

Asriel had never thought he’d have another chance to hug Frisk in his life. _“_ _Thank you,”_ he whispered. Tears were running down his face. He didn’t care. He hugged Frisk back.

Frisk beckoned to Chara. “Come on, Chara. Get in on this.”

“I’m not a huggy person,” Chara protested.

Frisk grabbed Chara by the wrist and pulled them along. “Don’t lie to make yourself sound cooler in front of your brother.”

Chara reluctantly joined in. Asriel could see something in the human’s eyes he hadn’t seen in a long time.

Chara wiped the tears from their eyes. “I-it’s not what it looks like,” they sniffed. It was exactly what it looked like.

And that was when Asriel lost it. Out of all the times he'd been hurt over the past three years, all the times he'd broken down and cried, none could compare to this. He couldn't tell if it was out of sadness, or happiness, or some mixture of the two. But he was a mess. He could hardly breathe, let alone see straight. Frisk and Chara turned to blurs in front of him. He could feel their arms around him, the warmth and kindness of their embrace. They stayed by his side until he ran out of tears.

Eventually, Asriel and the two humans said their goodbyes. Frisk, as always, played it cool. Chara tried to act as stoic as them, but Asriel could tell that seeing him had meant a lot to them. They'd missed him. Not because he was a pawn in their game, but because they genuinely did _love_ him. He hadn't known a Chara like that since…

…It was a length of time too long and too nebulous for Asriel to count.

He was glad to see Chara, too. It made Asriel feel a lot better to know that somewhere out there, a version of Chara had turned out all right.

Chara waved goodbye as they and Frisk walked down the corridor. “Bye, Asriel! Don’t get too jealous of our timeline, okay?”

The corridor faded into white, the crumbling stone columns melting away. Frisk and Chara, the two emissaries from another world, dwindled into black specks before finally vanishing from sight.

Asriel thought he saw Chara wave goodbye one final time before disappearing, but it might have been his imagination.

 –

Asriel woke up with the window laying a bright sunbeam across his face. He groaned as he pulled himself out of bed. But aside from the irritant of the sun, he felt surprisingly well-rested. Catching a glimpse of himself in his mirror, he saw tears staining his cheeks—but they were not tears of sadness.

Tears from the dream… had he really been visited by emissaries from another world in his dream? Or had it just been a fantasy?

Either way, it made Asriel feel better knowing that maybe, somewhere, a Chara untainted by Zero could be living a happy life.

It might have been Asriel’s imagination, but the blind gaze of his sightless left eye staring back at him in the mirror seemed less baleful this morning. He put his eyepatch on over it anyway. He still thought it was cool.

Asriel heard a soft tapping on his bedroom door. “Asriel?” his mother called out softly from the other side of the door. “May I come in?”

“Sure.” Asriel dried his eyes on his sleeve, just so Toriel didn't have something new to worry about. He wasn't sure how he'd explain what he'd seen in his dream.

The door swung open and Toriel shuffled through, a steaming mug of tea clasped between her paws. She looked haggard but smiled when she saw Asriel. “Good morning, my son.”

“Good morning, Mom. A-are you okay…?”

Toriel shook her head, but said, “Yes, Asriel, I am fine. I merely… Asriel, when adults have _too much fun_ , you see…”

“You're hungover?” Asriel asked.

Toriel laughed. “No, no, I am just very tired. Perhaps I did have a little too much drink, though,” she admitted. “I want to apologize for embarrassing you and your friend last night.”

Asriel was taken aback. “What? N-no, Mom, you didn't…”

“We are goats, Asriel. Do not act so _sheepish.”_ Toriel held his paw. “No, you were obviously quite mortified.”

“Uh… Y-yeah, I kinda was.”

Toriel took a seat at the foot of Asriel's bed. “I was just very excited to see you spending time with somebody your own age… for whom you have very romantic feelings…”

Asriel could feel the blood rushing to his face. “W-well, uh, y-yeah, but, uh, I mean, that doesn't m-mean we'll get married, or have kids… ”

“I am sorry. It was selfish of me to accost the two of you like that.”

Asriel shrugged. “I think we'll survive. But thanks, Mom.”

“I am just so happy to see you with friends your own age and…” Toriel shrugged. “Well, being a fifteen-year-old, and not some grim superhero like in those 'animes' you watch with Captain Undyne and Doctor Alphys. I've always feared that your experiences would rob you of the chance to experience those things… and it would have been my fault for not doing enough.”

She took a deep breath. “Speaking of romance… I wanted to talk to you. About your father.”

Asriel felt a hole open up in his heart.

“Please do not stand on ceremony.”

“R-right.” Asriel sat down next to his mother. “W-what about Dad?”

Toriel let out a deep and longing sigh. “Your father… did many horrible things. And for that, I hated him.”

Asriel knew what his father had done, and how his parents had parted ways after he'd died, but… _Hated?_

“Heartless. Cruel. Bloodthirsty. Coward.” She spat the epithets out one by one. “All those things I called him and more, on the day I abandoned my throne.” Her voice turned melancholy. “Blinded by my anger and my grief… I never even realized that I, too, was a coward, abandoning this kingdom at its most vulnerable.”

Her paw trembled, shaking her mug and sending ripples through the remains of her tea. Asriel reached out and steadied her paw. “S-so—But you forgave him, didn't you? You took him back…”

“I could see that despite his terrible, unconscionable deeds… he was still the same big, kind oaf I had fallen in love with in the first place. But…” Toriel glanced downward. “It took me a long time to forgive him. When he begged me to take him back… I admit it. I was not ready to forgive him, no matter how sincere his apologies were.”

His mother's words didn't make sense to Asriel. “But you did,” he pointed out. He'd been there. It had been on their first night under the stars, the day Zero had brought Asriel back to life and set this nightmare in motion. Asgore had asked Toriel to take him back, and she had said—

“Yes,” Toriel said. “I did it for you, Asriel. It may have been misguided of me, but I had hoped that with the two of us together, and you and Frisk… it would be like old times. I felt that was what you deserved.”

Now that Asriel had thought about it, his parents' relationship _had_ seemed frostier when he'd come back… especially in the first year above the surface. “B-but you…” He felt confused. Betrayed, even. Why was his mother telling him this? Was she trying to make him feel _better_ about his father, or _worse?_ “Y-you f-fell back in love with him, didn't you?” She'd had a bit less patience for Asgore's behavior, but surely… _  
_

Tears leaked from Toriel's eyes. “Yes, Asriel,” she whimpered. “E-eventually, I forgave him. And for a while, at least, we truly were a family again.” She knelt down to set down her mug on the floor. “It was only too late that I realized I had held onto my hatred for far too long… even though the recipient of that hatred had long since expressed his remorse.”

“If I'd forgiven him earlier, we would have had more time together…” Toriel wrapped her arms around Asriel. “In the end, Asriel, despite everything, your father was still a good man… I just wish I'd admitted that to myself earlier.”

Asriel understood. He'd held onto his fear and hatred of an (at least _mostly)_ innocent person long after the clues to Zero's true nature had started staring him in the face. If he had been less afraid, perhaps he would have realized sooner that Zero and the Chara he had known had been two different people, separated by the gulf of an entire universe.

Chara hadn't deserved to be the on the receiving end of Asriel's hatred and fear either.

“Forgive me, Asriel,” Toriel sniffed, drying her tears, “for not telling you sooner.”

“I-it's okay, Mom.” He patted his mother on the back to offer her some comfort.

Toriel opened the blinds, letting sunlight fill Asriel's room. Asriel squinted. “You missed a lovely sunrise this morning, my child. But the sun is beautiful no matter what the time of day is, in my opinion. Whoever you marry in the future,” Toriel said, managing a weak smile, “whether it is your deer friend or some other lucky individual you meet in the years to come… do try to put a little more effort in it than I did, okay?”

“O-okay. S-so, uh, Mom? A-are you—Y-you're not gonna marry _Sans,_ are you?”

Toriel stared at Asriel, almost mortified, before bursting out laughing. “Oh, goodness no, child!” She struggled to collect herself. “I will not be ready to remarry for quite some time, I believe. And Professor Sans is quite committed to the life of a bachelor at this time.”

“So you've talked about it, then,” Asriel pointed out.

Toriel changed the subject. “Did you sleep well last night, my child?”

“Uh—Yes.”

“Good. But do you still have nightmares?”

“Sometimes,” Asriel admitted. He'd been prescribed medication for dreamless sleep, and they kept out some of the nightmares, but not all of them.

“I do too,” his mother replied. “To be honest, I do not get much sleep anymore, with work the way it is. If you ever feel alone or afraid, even if it is three in the morning on a Wednesday…” She gently patted Asriel on the knee. “Come find me, okay?”

“Okay.” Asriel smiled. “I love you, Mom.”

Toriel smiled too. “I love you too, Asriel.”

 –

 It was a beautiful morning. Sunshine. Birdsong. A gentle early March breeze carrying just a hint of warm air to banish the February cold.

It was the Roaring ‘20’s, but not _those_ ‘20’s. The _other_ ones. The nascent Kingdom of Mount Ebott was prospering about as much as it could given its conditions. Currently, the only thing maintaining the kingdom’s fragile sovereignty was its stranglehold on the revolutionary technology that now kept mankind’s rampant pollution of the Earth at bay (all thanks, of course, to the tireless efforts of the fabulous Doctor Alphys and the fantastic Doctor Gaster).

In the days to come, Chara would treasure those heady and carefree days. They would sit on the mountainside in their new body, the body Doctor Alphys and her medical associates had grown in a pod for them, and bask in the sunlight.

Today, buffeted by spring breezes, Chara was daydreaming about their long lost brother.

They’d just seen him again—in a dream. A wonderful dream that crossed time and space! They’d _seen_ him, finally, at long last. In that other world, Asriel was strong, tall, and healthy. Just like them. Chara had nearly broken down right then and there, seeing him, seeing the mix of happiness and melancholy filling that single golden eye (but, of course, they had an image to maintain). Chara hadn’t expected the eyepatch he’d sported, but they had to admit it was quite a good look for Asriel.

“You’ll burn if you stay out in the sun too long,” Frisk told them, taking a seat on the grass. They could have been Chara’s double—they were the same height, had the same build, the same soft face framed by the same long brown hair. But their hair and skin were darker than Chara’s, and their hooded eyes a deep dark brown.

Chara had met them quite by accident; when Frisk had by chance fallen into the Underground, the long-dead child’s ghost had latched onto their mind and, so to speak, gone along with them for the ride. Now Frisk was Chara’s closest friend, and a member of their found family.

“Oh, my dear sibster. Do you honestly believe I’d be so foolish as to go without sunscreen?” Chara grinned, flashing their pearly whites.

“ _Are_ you?”

“I would rather feel all our wonderful yellow sun has to give me, thank you very much. And besides, I don’t like the way it smells.”

“You’ll burn up. You’ll make Grillby look like a damp coal.”

“Humbuggery.” Their phone buzzed in their pocket. Chara pulled it out. Breaking news popped up on the home screen: _“Enright Calls Ebott Sovereignty ‘Grave Mistake.’”_

“Anything important, Chara?” Frisk asked, picking themselves off the ground and brushing grass off their shirt.

Chara let the phone fall into the grass and laid their head back, closing their eyes and letting sunbeams warm their face. “Nothing, nothing. Just sound and fury,” they told them, “signifying nothing.”

-

Many years passed. The Dreemurr kingdom rebuilt itself, repairing and strengthening its relationships with the human world. There were bumps in the road, but after ten years, the peace between humans and monsters had never been stronger.

With his mother busy running the kingdom, Asriel forewent private tutoring and attended Newest Home's high school. He managed to quadruple the number of friends he had, although Selim, the deer-monster he'd met that fateful December, remained his closest friend. When they finished high school, they went their separate ways, although they remained good friends: Asriel studied political science and dabbled a bit in astronomy at the kingdom's own Palatino University; Selim traveled abroad to study anthropology, returning to the kingdom once they had completed their degree (but to Toriel's dismay, neither they nor Asriel showed much interest in settling down with each other and starting a family of their own). By the time Asriel had graduated, he had grown into a strong, handsome young monster.

Asriel still bore the scars, both physical and mental, from those terrible days with Zero that no amount of care could truly erase: his eye, his nightmares (although far less frequent), the aches in his left arm and buzzing in his left ear, panic attacks whenever he'd encounter anything reminding him of Zero's terrible eldritch nature… The sight of black liquids, like crude oil or melted asphalt, or of humans with red eyes (although those were surprisingly rare) would still sometimes tear the breath from his lungs and set his heart pounding.

But when it hurt, he could always rely on his family, his friends, and the weekly appointments with his therapist to give him strength.

Asriel took to the throne soon after finishing his education. Queen Toriel Dreemurr abdicated her throne after eight long years of hard work, retiring to act as headmistress for the kingdom’s school system. Upon inheriting the crown, the freshly-coronated King Asriel set to work immediately, working himself half to death to manage the nation's affairs. After a nervous breakdown and a long physician-mandated vacation, Asriel took a different tack. When Asriel returned to work, he established a representative democracy to run the kingdom for him.

Papyrus was appointed the first prime minister of the monster kingdom by near-unanimous consent in a kingdom-wide referendum (Mettaton voted for himself, Papyrus voted for Asriel, and Sans scrawled a "P" on a crumpled-up napkin and shoved it into a ballot box, which was not admissible as a legitimate vote). Despite Papyrus’ initial misgivings—Undyne had to talk him into accepting the position—his position as Prime Minister worked out very well for him. Parliament came up with all of the laws, and all he had to do was decide which laws were good laws, shake hands with other world leaders, and establish national holidays. Papyrus established seven in less than two years, exactly half of which had to do with pasta (National Spaghetti Day, Marinara's Eve, Mostaccioli Monday (which was actually on a Tuesday and only happened on the first Tuesday of February) and National Jogging and Ravioli Day).

Asriel’s only remaining duties as king were to make speeches and accompany the Prime Minister on diplomatic meetings with other world leaders. It was a position he was happy with. He left the fighting to other people, for once in his life. (He still trained his body, though, because he felt he had a reputation to maintain—and his fire powers made for great party tricks.)

Asriel never heard from any other alternate timelines. For all he knew, that dream in which he had encountered another timeline could have been just that—a dream. He never bothered to talk to Sans about communicating with other realities, even though he still had many unanswered questions. Those doors, he had decided, should remain unopened.

Grass grew over the top of Mount Ebott, and eventually small saplings too, although the mountain's shorn head remained as sure a reminder of Zero's evil and of those who had died because of them as any gravestone or mausoleum. No monsters settled there, fearful (however irrationally) that the tragedy of that Christmas ten years ago might repeat itself. However, a few had gone and plucked a few echo flowers from the underground caverns and transplanted them to the mountaintop. Now the ghostly blue flowers sprinkled the scraggly grasses, whispering the names of loved ones that had been lost.

Asriel often hiked up the mountain and stood at the edge of the crater, peering down at the dull glow of the magma pools below. If he brought a telescope, he could see some of the ruins of the old kingdom, the ancient prison, wavering in the heat. Sometimes he missed it—Waterfall most of all. The world of the surface outclassed all other realms in the old kingdom in every way, but those dark and dripping caverns were still unlike anything above the earth. Undyne would often accompany him on his trips. The sight of the crater made her unusually silent.

–

The thin air always howled over the crater. Asriel's left arm ached like it always did when he came up here. It seemed to remember what had happened to it high up in the sky above this crater ten years ago. Undyne shivered, despite the thick parka she'd kept on her. At this height, it was always cold, especially in the winter.

Asriel pulled out a thermos from his pack. “Tea, Captain?”

“Just like your dad, huh?” Undyne took the thermos from him but didn't remove the top. She just held it in her gloved hands. “Thanks, Your Highness.”

“You know… if we had a navy, I could make you an admiral.”

Undyne raised an eyebrow. “We're landlocked.”

Asriel shrugged. “Doesn't have to be a sea fleet.” He craned his head back and looked skyward. “How do you think your wife would feel about being the first monster in space?”

Undyne burst out laughing, doubling over, clutching her stomach. The thermos fell to the rocky soil. “Oh, my god, Asriel, you can't be—” She bit her tongue to stop herself from laughing. “My god. You're serious, aren't you?”

Asriel nodded. “Look at how high up we are. It can't be that hard to escape gravity's pull from here, right?”

“Well…” Undyne looked at the sky and squinted. She crossed her arms. “I'll have to see what Alphys thinks about it. And _you'll_ have to see what Parliament thinks about it.”

“Ah, yes, the joys of democracy.”

They passed the next few minutes in pensive silence. Wispy clouds drifted through the clear periwinkle skies.

“Hmm,” said Asriel.

“Something on your mind, kid?”

Asriel cleared his throat. “You mean, _'Your Majesty'.”_

“You may be my boss, but you'll always be the little brother I never had,” Undyne retorted. “So what's up… _Your Majesty?”_

“I was just thinking, Captain,” Asriel said, “that you seem a little greener than usual.” He slowly raised his paw to about Undyne's height and eyed it carefully. “And I think you've gotten shorter, too…?”

Undyne's cheeks turned a deep shade of blue. _“A-A-A-Asriel—”_ she spluttered.

Asriel chuckled. He'd been lying through his teeth, of course, but he'd wanted to see how his former mentor (and honorary big sister) would react. “Undyne, you should've seen the look on your face—”

The next thing he knew, the warrior-king of the mountain was running for his life down the scraggly, grassy slopes with an angry blue fish-woman hot on his tail and bellowing insults at him.

 On the rolling slopes, a cluster of phantom-like echo flowers gently waved, whispering a handful of names in Asriel's voice. In the center of the ring of ghostly blue flowers, a single tiny yellow flower basked in the sunlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "somehow, at the end of the day... a small, white dog became president of the underground. it sleeps on the throne and does absolutely nothing. strangely, it seems this is the best life for everyone."
> 
> THE END
> 
> Thank you for reading! Writing this fic over the past year was a great experience! Sometimes it was hard, sometimes it was exhausting, sometimes it kept me up until 3 in the morning when I really should have been sleeping, but it was always fun.
> 
> Don't delete your bookmark just yet, the end credits are coming up!


	42. Obligatory Post-Credits Sequel Hook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You weren't just going to leave right when the end credits started up, were you?

UNDER HEAVEN

AN UNDERTALE FANFIC

WRITTEN AND DIRECTED BY

AMX-004 QUBELEY

 

STARRING

ASRIEL as VENOM "PUNISHED" ASRIEL

UNDYNE as CAPTAIN KAZUHIRA "KAZ" UNDYNE

ALPHYS as DOCTOR AL(PHYS) "OTACON" EMMERICH

CHARA as "MAJOR" ZERO

and GUEST STARRING THE REVENANT "SKULLS" UNIT

 

Sound Design.........................................Mettaton

Scientific Consultant......................................Sans

Best Boy....................................................Papyrus

 

ORIGINAL SCORE AVAILABLE ON CD BY MTT RECORDS

 

IN ~~LOVING~~ MEMORY of DOCTOR W. D. "WINGDINGS" GASTER

 

\--

 

Asriel was trying very hard to get his tie right. He still maintained, after thirteen years on the surface of the Earth, that the necktie was the worst thing humans had ever invented. He struggled in front of the mirror, wrestling with the long mess of fabric at his neck. He’d gone with a striking violet suit for tonight’s outing (he'd taken quite a liking to the violet suit a few years ago when he'd asked Papyrus for fashion advice; Papyrus had in turn asked his phone “What does Prince wear?” and the rest, as they say, was history) and his decorative eyepatch. This eyepatch was far from the frilly thing he’d had to wear as a child, but rather, a simple and functional white eyepatch. It blended in almost perfectly with his ivory fur, making his left eye appear to vanish entirely from his face. He liked the effect.

Asriel had thirty minutes until the charity gala began. He wondered if he should even bother with the tie. Would anybody care if he wore a clip-on? Was it more unfashionable to wear a fake tie or be late?

His earpiece buzzed. He kept it in his right ear—the tinnitus in his left had only gotten worse as he’d grown up. He let the cloth snake around his neck hang limp as he reached for his neck and activated the earpiece’s sister microphone attached to his throat. “Asriel here.”

 _“A wonderful evening to you, King Asriel,”_ said Papyrus, their nasally voice echoing in Asriel's ear. _“There’s a mister—Excuse me, what did you say your name was? Arikado? There’s a Mr. Arikado here to see you, Your Highness.”_

A visitor? For him? At this time of day? Asriel didn’t recall having any appointments for this evening, since he was leaving so soon. And why was Papyrus playing secretary? “Papyrus, where's my secretary?”

_“Well, Your Highness, I ran into him on the way to work and noticed he'd spilled coffee all over his nice work shirt, so I told him to run back home and get it dry cleaned, and I'd man the front desk for him! And, well, I suppose he forgot all about coming in to work today… so I just stayed here and managed your schedule all day!”_

Asriel smiled. Only Prime Minister Papyrus would do something like that. “Anyway, does Mr. Arikado have an appointment?”

_“You know, I didn't think he would, because of the party and everything, but I double checked, and it turns out it's here in your daily planner! Right in here. Eight in the evening.”_

Asriel’s spirits fell. He’d completely forgotten he’d scheduled any appointments for the day… other than his attendance of this year's annual Frisk Awards charity gala in Grassland. “C-can he reschedule?”

 _“Mr. Arikado, would you mind coming back next week?”_ Papyrus paused. _“He says yes, but he’d rather not—Er, excuse me, sir? Mr. Arikado? You can’t go that way—”_ There was another brief pause. _“Mr. Asriel, sir? I am very, very sorry about all this, but your guest just made a mad dash for the stairs. Should I run after him?”_ Asriel could _hear_ the slump in Papyrus' shoulders.

Asriel sighed, pulled the failed tie off of his neck and let it fall to the floor of his study. “Don't sweat it, Paps, I’ll take care of him.” He grabbed the cloak off of his desk chair—a new model of the cloak Alphys and Undyne had gotten him for his fifteenth birthday, as soft as silk, light as a feather, and more blast-resistant than a nuclear bunker—and wrapped it around himself. In his right hand, he summoned a sword of golden fire, which he hoped would scare the intruder off. He'd kept his body in peak physical condition, although it had been years since he'd conjured any sort of weapon out of fire for anything other than party tricks. He cast one look back at the mirror to make sure he looked presentable to his intruder, turned to face the door, and froze in his tracks.

There was a man standing in front of the door, leaning in front of it, loitering as if he belonged there. And he hadn't shown up in the mirror.

The man had long, jet-black hair, and skin that looked like it had never seen a single ray of sunlight. His eyes were red—another human with red eyes. Asriel felt his breath catch in his throat.

 _Red eyes._ But they were not a bright, sparkling red, but a deeper red, almost purple, like wine.

A dark pinstripe suit clung to the intruder's thin, shapely body, a vivid red carnation hanging from the lapel. Asriel looked back at the mirror, and then back at the man, just to confirm that the man did, in fact, not have a reflection. _What kind of person doesn't show up in a mirror?_ he wondered. He already knew the answer.

“Good evening, King Asriel,” the man said, bowing deeply in front of Asriel. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Genya Arikado.” His voice was deep and sonorous, almost hypnotic. The man offered his perfectly-manicured hand to Asriel and smiled, and Asriel saw between the man's lips two long and sharp fangs. Arikado continued: “Tell me, Your Highness—How much do you know about… Dracula?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [*Checks your PS1 memory card* You like Castlevania, don't you?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t0oHnGM_iQw#t=01m43s)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Happy Halloween, and thank you for sticking with this fic for a whole year!


End file.
